


Transformation

by princesskay



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blowjobs, Bottom Will, Choking, Come Eating, Docking, Falling In Love, Gift Giving, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6407614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every transformation has it's painful stages. Isolated from the world, Will and Hannibal struggle to honestly express their feelings for each other through conventional means of gaining affection.  </p><p>Surprise! It's another angsty, fluffy, drama-filled post-fall fix-it fit. I don't think I'll ever get tired of writing all the different ways they could possibly fall in love after s3 :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://s1353.photobucket.com/user/glitterkitty091/media/Transformation%203_zpswxxwqbkt.jpg.html)   
> 

The whisper of wind across open landscape and through mountain peaks was the only sound at this altitude. An occasional strong gust blew through a snow drift, scattering a wave of sparkling flakes toward an endless blue sky.

Will stepped out of the Land Rover with his head tilted back to take in the spell-binding image of the Swiss Alps towering in jagged, white-capped peaks above them. The precarious trip up the mountain path in the snow was worth a view that took his breath away.

“I take it you have never seen these mountains up close before.” Hannibal said, coming to stand at Will's elbow, “Impressive, aren't they?”

“It's one of those moments you start wondering about the existence of life.” Will murmured, “It's perfect chaos.”

“Come on.” Hannibal said, extending Will's suitcase to him, “Let's explore the chalet.”

Will slung his bag over his shoulder trudged through the three feet of snow, following the track Hannibal left behind.

The chalet sat like an anomaly in the side of the mountain. Dark toned wood contrasted with floor-to-ceiling windows that left the front side the three levels open to onlookers. The jutting eaves established the sense of a rustic cabin, but also the elaborate design of a modern home. A porch wrapped generously around the bottom level, and the third level boasted a balcony protruding on the left side.

“This place is amazing.” Will said, “How did you find it?”

“Chalets like these in the Alps are highly sought after luxury getaways.” Hannibal said, “Especially if one is fond of skiing.”

“Are you?”

“I have never been one for sports, but skiing does feed the thrill-seeker in me.”

Hannibal unlocked the door and motioned for Will to step in ahead of him. “Please, take your shoes off by the door. I did mention the house is a luxury getaway, didn't I?”

“You did.” Will chuckled.

He kicked his boots off and turned to survey the first level with gradually parting lips.

The base level was entirely open, with no walls to separate the living room and kitchen areas. Half the space was taken up by a massive, L-shaped gray couch and matching recliner, a glass coffee table, and fire place which squatted below the sixty-five inch TV mounted into the wall.

The other half was kitchen space. A full wrap-around counter with bar stools surrounded the kitchen appliances, and an island block for superfluous counter space sat in the center. All the walls boasted wood beams in a warm, pale amber with a few panels of gray for accent.

“This is ours?” Will whispered.

“Rented.” Hannibal said, “Paid six months in advance in cash.”

“Will we get to see it in the summer?” Will asked, stepping up to the window to take in the panoramic view of the snow-capped mountains.

“Yes. Should we decide to stay, I can give the owner another six months rent.”

Will glanced up when Hannibal joined him at the window. The white light reflecting off the snow cast his face in pale illumination. His eyes gleamed amber, and a shade of decision made.

“I can't believe we'll be living in luxury like this while everyone back home is hunting high and low for us.” Will murmured.

Hannibal flashed him a cunning smile.“I make it a habit to always live in luxury, no matter where I am in the world, or what my current status may be.”

“So, should we explore the rest of the house?” Will asked.

He turned to peruse his lavish surroundings, his heart beating like the wings of a bird.

“First, I would like to give you something.”

Will glanced over his shoulder to see Hannibal pull a black box out of his pocket. He pulled the lid off and produced a second one, this one in black velvet.

Will's eyes narrowed. “A gift?”

“A housewarming gift.” Hannibal said, pressing the box into Will's hand, “A reminder.”

Will lifted the lid and almost choked when his eyes fell on the rose gold watch ticking against the velvet. The face told time in Roman numerals and flashed a tourbillon at the bottom portion just over five and six o'clock. The brown leather strap gleamed shiny new in the spacious light.

Will squinted at the name etched in the face. “Cartier? How much did this cost?”

“It's a gift.” Hannibal said, “It's rude to ask the price of a gift.”

“Sorry, I just … this is ...” Will stammered.

“Here, I'll put it on you.” Hannibal said.

He plucked the watch from the case and pulled Will's wrist toward him. His thumb brushed across Will's growing pulse as he pushed the sleeve back. Will swallowed back another protest as Hannibal looped the watch around his wrist and fastened it in place. He turned Will's hand over so that they could both see how the watch looked on his arm.

“Time has always been a factor of our relationship.” Hannibal said, “This gift is a reminder that we fought towards each other against the clock, and nearly ran out of time; and now, that we have all the time in the world.”

“I feel like I'm wearing a small country's worth in jewelry.” Will whispered.

“That makes you self-conscious?”

“A little. A watch worth thousands of dollars doesn't really go on me.”

“It goes very well.” Hannibal smiled. He touched Will's chin, bringing their gazes together. “And, Will … you are worth every penny.”

Will flushed hot and coughed out a laugh. “I, ah … We should finish the tour.”

Hannibal dipped his head. “That we should.”

They climbed the stairs to the second level where the bedrooms and baths were housed. Will gaped at the Jacuzzi and the open shower before quickly dismissing the bathroom. They offered too many intimate ideas as the thought that he and Hannibal would be here alone for the next six months without any other human contact began to settle into his brain with disturbing detail.

Hannibal led them into the next room.

“This room will be yours.” He said, “What do you think?”

The room was furnished with a low-sitting bed, fireplace, TV, and a small desk in the corner, but what caught Will's attention was the view from the window. That entire wall was glass that looked over the snow-covered hillside and across the valley to the next chain of rugged mountains. In the crook between them and the mountains, a pure blue lake glistened in the sunlight.

“The view is …”

Will's gaze broke from the view when he sensed Hannibal's presence behind him. Hannibal touched his hips gently, with just enough pressure to make Will take a step back against him.

“Did you ever think you would wake up every morning to a view of this magnitude and beauty?”

“No.” Will said in a hoarse whisper.

“Hm.” Hannibal murmured, “Neither did I. Three months ago I thought we might die.”

“We're still at the top of the FBI's most wanted list.” Will said, “Isn't this all too elaborate?”

“It's entirely safe.” Hannibal said, “There's no record of our stay here, at least not under our real names. As I said, I paid in cash, therefore, no trail to follow. I have never met the owner in person.”

“It might take me awhile to feel safe here.”

“If you ever feel afraid, come to me. I will walk you through why we are safe until you are calm again.”

Will blinked, faintly surprised he was comforted by the remark.

“It feels like we are standing on the edge of the world, yes?” Hannibal whispered, his lips brushing against Will's earlobe.

“Or on top of it.”

“Yes. Here we are, together, enjoying the view. The world at our feet. It's a satisfying notion.”

Will closed his eyes. In his mind, he didn't see the pure, white snow, or the gray peaks of the Alps. He saw the darkness rising up to swallow him. The darkness had Hannibal's face, and it's belly was a warm and inviting place, like the safety of a womb.

 

~

 

The third level was for recreational purposes. A swimming pool and hot tub were closed off on one side, while the other half was filled with a fully stocked bar, a reading nook, also stocked with books, and a pool table. Will couldn't see himself spending very much time upstairs, with the exception of the miniature library, but Hannibal was like a child on Christmas when he stepped into the pool area.

“I've always been very in tune with water.” He remarked, “I can't remember a time when I didn't swim.”

Will thought the water was for fish, and fish were for being caught and eaten; he didn't say this aloud as Hannibal had been so gracious to him already.

They wandered back downstairs and Hannibal suggested Will take a shower while he prepared dinner.

“There's food here?” Will asked.

“I arranged for the refrigerator to be stocked before our arrival, of course.” Hannibal said, “It is our first true night of freedom, and I intend for it to be memorable. Go, now.”

Will walked back up to the second level and stepped into the bathroom. A large mirror showcased his indecisive and shy expression as he stripped out of his clothes. The shirt fell to the floor, and in the bright lights of the bathroom, he was suddenly painfully aware of the scars that marred his body. He'd grown accustomed to most of them, even the newer ones that were still healing from their fight with the Red Dragon. He'd lived in this body all his life, but the sudden flash of dysphoria prompted him to wonder what version of him registered in Hannibal's eyes.

He took the watch off last, and carefully set it back in it's case. If it hadn't been a gift, he wouldn't still be wearing it. It was far too fine to be on his wrist. Watches were gifts for powerful men with good taste and money to burn. It flashed on a man's wrist like a show of dominance, a sign of status. For him, it was a finely crafted shackle, precious gold and tiny cogs linking him to a man he seemed destined to run away with.

Will stepped up to the shower head and cranked the water on hot. He let the water pound out the tension from his neck and shoulders while he considered which one of them it would be to make the next move.

 

~

 

Hannibal turned on Mozart, poured himself a glass of wine, and set about making dinner. He moved around the kitchen, caught up in the dance of dinner preparations, focused on the food before him. He felt as if he were back in his old kitchen in Baltimore, at ease with his surroundings, and doing what he loved best.

The meal was in the oven when Will wandered down the stairs. He was fastening the watch back around his wrist, his gaze focused on the leather strap.

“How was the shower?” Hannibal asked.

“Good. Water pressure is perfect.”

“Excellent.”

Will took a seat on one of the stools at the counter and observed Hannibal with a guarded gaze.

“I can see you have something on your mind.” Hannibal said, “Would you like a glass of wine while we discuss it?”

“Sure.”

Hannibal brought out another glass and poured out a glass of white Reisling. He slid it across the counter to Will.

“Well?”

Will swirled the wine around his glass without taking a sip. “I've been thinking.”

“That suggests you've come to a conclusion.”

“Yes. I have.”

Hannibal waited for Will to continue. As Will's former psychiatrist, Hannibal had the upper hand of knowing all of Will's cues and tells, whether verbal or not. Will had to take the time to properly word himself because he had many emotions to sort through before he found the one at the heart of his predicament.

“I'm thinking about the watch.” Will said, glancing down at the timepiece on his wrist.

“If you don't like it, I'll buy you another.”

“No, no.” Will shook his head. “It's not the style or look of it ...”

“You still don't think you deserve such a fine gift?”

Will chewed at his lower lip. “Yes, but that's not what I'm thinking about. I'm thinking about _why_ you gave it to me.”

“Why do you think I gave it to you?”

Will's gaze broke off from Hannibal's momentarily. When he looked back up, there was a tremble in his eyes. “You're trying to … butter me up.”

Hannibal chuckled. “I have no intention of eating you.”

Will's lips twitched despite the fear treading water behind his eyes. “That's not what I meant and you know it.”

“I'm pandering to your self-consciousness. Giving you gifts to bolster self-worth and insisting you and I could have the world.” Hannibal said.

Will frowned. “Yes. Why are you admitting it?”

“Because, by the time we leave this place, I intend to have driven any question as to whether you are worth it or not from your mind.”

“Why?” Will whispered.

“Because, to me, you are the perfect partner and equal, and I don't see any reason why you shouldn't consider yourself in the same light that I do.”

Will toyed with the watch. “You know, right before everything happened I asked Bedilia if you were in love with me.”

Hannibal paused.

Will glanced up from the watch, his eyes now frosty with a challenge.

“It hadn't quite occurred to me that this might be love.” Hannibal said, at last, “I don't recall what it feels like.”

Will swallowed, hard. “So, do you?”

Hannibal drew in a deep breath. It took him just that long to decide to be honest.

“Some people may disagree, given our history, but, unorthodox or not, I have to say yes.”

Will absorbed the reply with a swallow, his tongue darting anxiously across his lower lip. “So,” He whispered, “All of this … the luxury getaway, the watch – it's a show, right? You're trying to soften my armor so you can get inside.”

“No one has ever treated you this way before.” Hannibal said, “I assumed it would work.”

Will ducked his head, but not quickly enough to hide the blush that crept across his cheeks. “It is.” He murmured.

Hannibal gripped the edge of the counter so tightly that the tile began to bite into his fingers. A strange, fluttering sensation seized his chest, like a cage full of butterflies set free inside behind his ribs.

“Do you … feel the same way?” He asked, struggling to temper the tremble in his voice.

“I don't think I've ever romanticized our relationship.” Will said, “It's never occurred to me that we should pursue traditional means of gaining each other's affection.”

“Most traditional means are materialistic and short-lived.” Hannibal said, “The marks we've left on each are forever.”

Will shook his head. “The first time I thought about hurting you, I didn't think I would ever find my way to the opposite side.”

“The first time I thought about your friendship, I didn't think about hurting you.”

“You didn't?” Will frowned.

“No, I was … curious. When I was a child, I was infatuated by nature and it's inhabitants. I kept cochlear gardens and captured lightning bugs. When I grew older, I caught butterflies and put them in shadowboxes so I could look at them every day. Their transformation was one of such raw, and awe-inspiring beauty that I could not learn enough about these majestic creatures. I felt they were the only thing in the world that could possibly understand me. The world and it's people appeared quite dull compared to my collection. Of course, it's been some time since I observed that hobby. I don't know what ever became of my shadowboxes after I left my aunt and uncle's home in Paris. But, when I saw you for the first time, I felt that sudden, warm burst of joy and fascination inside me just as when I did when I found a new butterfly to add to my collection. You were the first human being I knew that I felt could understand me the way my butterflies once did.”

“Then … then why _did_ you hurt me?” Will asked.

Hannibal lowered his chin, fixing his gaze on the swirling pattern in the counter top until his breathing steadied.

“Didn't I tell you? I trapped the butterflies and put them in boxes, Will. I killed them.”

“You couldn't stand to love me alive?”

“You were transforming, but you needed my help. If I had left you to flounder alone, you might have ended there in your cocoon.”

“So. You set my mind on fire.”

“I helped along your existing illness because I knew it was the only way to truly open your mind. It was your only vulnerability, my only way in.”

Will regarded him with a wounded expression for several moments. Hannibal lifted his chin, and pressed his gaze to Will's wide, blue eyes.

“I've gotten us this far, Will. It's your choice now whether we transform together or fly our separate ways.”

“You succeeded.” Will said, quietly. “You opened my mind, you crawled inside. You figured me out.”

“And you transformed.” Hannibal murmured.

“Yes. And I know now there's no going back. I can't undo all that's happened; but I also can't throw full responsibility on you. I've made my own choices to bring me to this point.”

“Do you regret those choices?”

Will drew in a deep breath. He scanned the chalet with a slow, methodical gaze that circled back to Hannibal.

“I'm not in the position to complain.” He said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.

“This place is temporary. One day it will be entirely lost to the mountains. The decisions you make now will last forever. Don't make a fatal error because you based your feelings and emotions in the lap of luxury.”

“You're saying it would be a fatal error to be with you?” Will asked.

“It's not without it's dangers.”

“Well … I accept the danger.”

“You cannot fully accept danger you don't fully understand.”

“I've got no other place to go, do I?”

“There are people back in Baltimore who love you. You have a wife and son who are worried sick. I am set on my path as I have been for years, but you are at a fork in the road.”

Will shook his head. “Even if you told me all the sick and twisted things you've done to me while I wasn't aware of it, I can't leave. I can't go home. I see only one path.”

“Sick and twisted things are part of the past. I won't keep you here without your consent.”

“You have my consent. It's final. I'm staying.”

Will's eyes flashed a defiant shade of blue, and the jut of his jaw dared Hannibal to argue. Hannibal pursed his lips and gave a brief nod. He had the one thing he'd wanted, but never got within his grasp for many years within reach. He wouldn't dare tip the scales with a well intended but ill fated petition to Will's fading sanity.

 

~

 

After dinner, Hannibal left Will on the couch to shower. Will watched Swiss TV without comprehending even the pictures that flashed across the screen. Faced with the now undeniable fact that Hannibal was in love with him, he was a mass of fear and anticipation. The thoughts he'd had roaming around in his head for years had their chance to become reality. Now that Hannibal's true devotion was laid bare, Will knew Hannibal would do anything to please him. How far that stretched, he wasn't sure; but he wanted to find out.

Hannibal returned from the shower with wet hair and a change of clothes. Down from a suit to a sweater and slacks. Will wondered if he ever relaxed.

“Would you like a nightcap?” Hannibal asked.

“I'll have what you're having.” Will said.

He stretched out on the couch as he waited for Hannibal to return, letting his t-shirt ride up his stomach. At the sound of Hannibal's footfalls, he almost pulled the shirt down. He froze at the last moment, his hand on his chest, his heart pounding.

Hannibal gave the briefest pause, but his eyes perused down Will's body as he handed Will a glass of scotch. He motioned to Will's feet. “May I sit?”

Will pulled his legs up, leaving the last cushion open.

“Is there anything on TV?” Hannibal asked as he took a seat, “It only eight o'clock. I don't know when you'll be going to bed, but I do well with five hours, if that.”

Will shrugged, “Whenever I get tired.”

Hannibal smiled and motioned to Will's feet, “You may put them back, if you like.”

Will struggled to maintain a cool expression. “Are you sure?”

“They're clean, right?” Hannibal winked.

Will cleared his throat. “Right. Yes.”

He laid his feet gingerly in Hannibal's lap. He tried not to squirm as Hannibal put a hand on his ankle, pressing warmth into his skin. His thumb dragged leisurely across the bone, the act so simple but so devastating to Will's confidence. He grabbed the remote and began to flip through channels.

“Slow down. You cannot see what the channel is.”

“I can tell.” Will said, “They're all shit, and most of it is in German.”

“Give me the remote.”

Will grunted and handed over the remote. The tension boiling his chest had a direct line to his ankle. His skin burned under Hannibal's touch, not the slightest bit painful, but all too arousing. He tried not to think about how long it had been since he'd had sex, even touched himself. For the past three months, sex had been the farthest thing from his mind as the primal instinct of survival took over. Tonight was the tipping point between one primal urge and another as he inadvertently relaxed against the safety net Hannibal had created.

Will yanked his feet out of Hannibal lap and rose from the couch. “I think I'm going to bed.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. “Already?”

“Yeah, I just … It's been a long day. It's just now hitting me.”

“Of course. Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

Will trudged up the stairs and shut his bedroom door tight behind him. The silence of the room settled around him. He walked to the sheet of glass that stood between him and the rural mountains beyond. Gazing into the abyss below, he was struck with a sense of vulnerability and insignificance. The serene snow could swallow them into anonymity. Whatever happened in this chalet would never become known to the world; it would stay preserved in the walls of this house forever, whispering secrets between the rooms they would dwell in. If Will gave into his urges, it wouldn't matter. No one but his own conscience was here to lecture him; no one was here to stop him.

 

~

 

Hannibal stayed up, sipping wine, and reading in the nook upstairs until daylight had fully faded into the blackest evening. The midnight sky outside shone tiny pinpoints of stars that barely illuminated the crisp snow blanketing the slopes below them. Everything was still, cool and calm. Despite Will's ongoing fears, Hannibal was reassured that the phase would pass.

Just past one in the morning, he put the book back on the shelf and left the reading nook. He made his way down to the second level and the dark hallway to his bedroom, passing Will's door on silent feet. He came to halt when a quiet moaning sound interrupted the utter silence of the chalet. Moving silently, he back tracked to Will's room and inclined his ear to the door between them. The moaning increased in volume and intensity; the sound was marked by fear and distress that made Hannibal's heart seize.

Hannibal eased the door open and peered into the room. The starlight shone through the glass wall to illuminate Will's figure, twitching and writhing on the sheets. His eyes were shut to reality, locked in a dreamworld that was putting him in distress.

Hannibal rushed across the room and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Will. He took Will's face in both hands and gave him a gentle shake.

“Will.”

Will's face twisted in a frown, and his hand swiped out against an invisible predator.

“Will, wake up.” Hannibal said, clutching Will's face tighter.

Will jarred awake with a shout. “No!”

Hannibal leaned back to avoid the arch of Will's hand through the air. His fingertips passed within an inch of Hannibal's face as he sat upright, breathing hard and sweating through his t-shirt.

Will blinked hard, his brow knitting as he realized he'd been dreaming. “Hannibal?”

“I was passing by your door and heard you moaning.” Hannibal said, “You must have been dreaming.”

Will rubbed a hand over his face and let out a deep sigh. “I was.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Will swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and walked to the glass wall. The light silhouetted his figure in pewter, glowing light, laying bare the sweat and tremble clinging to his skin.

“I dreamed I was sleeping here in my bed, and this wall just gave out.” Will whispered, “The whole room started to tilt and fall down into the abyss ...”

Hannibal rose from the edge of the bed and approached Will. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out to touch Will's elbow. “What do you think it means?”

Will glanced over at him, a shadow of doubt crossing his blue eyes before he turned his gaze back to the mountains beyond.

“It's just a dream. It doesn't mean anything.”

“Some would disagree.”

“It's just my mind making things up because I'm in an unfamiliar place.” Will said, waving his hand, “I'll get used to living here.”

“Perhaps we should trade rooms.” Hannibal suggested, “This wall does not bother me like it does you.”

“I said, I'll get over it.” Will said, his voice icing over, defensive.

“As you wish. But if these dreams do not desist, I'll have to insist that-”

“I'm fine.” Will said, his voice softening, “You don't have to protect me.”

“I brought us to this point.” Hannibal said, “I'd have to disagree with you when you say that you are not my responsibility.”

Will ducked his head to hide a smile.

“It's perfectly okay to want reassurance.” Hannibal said, reaching out to touch Will's cheek, “It's human nature to be afraid of the future.”

“But you're not.”

“I know what my future is. I manufactured it.” Hannibal said.

“I manufactured my future when I threw us off that cliff.” Will whispered, “I don't have a right to be afraid of the consequences.”

“You have every right, but I promise to protect you. From now on, I'll always protect you.” Hannibal said, dragging his thumb across Will's cheek.

Will lifted his eyes, and met Hannibal's gaze with a shy flutter of eyelashes. He shifted forward, reaching out a trembling hand to touch Hannibal's side. His palm rested there for a moment, pressing warmth into Hannibal's skin through the fabric of his sweater. Hannibal drew in a shallow breath as Will's other hand quested out to clutch his side, drawing them together. Both arms snaked around Hannibal's waist to complete to embrace, and Will's head came to rest against Hannibal's shoulder.

Hannibal closed his eyes, pressing his mouth and nose against Will's hair. The soft texture and clean smell inundated his senses. He trembled, uncaring as to whether or not Will could sense his vulnerability in this moment.

The last time they had embraced, Will threw them off a cliff a moment later. Now, the only thing that stood between them and a gaping abyss was a sheet of glass and their fledgling affections – both so fragile and ready to shatter with a well placed blow and proper motivation.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Will awoke to blinding sunlight reflecting off the snow and streaming through the wall of glass. He pulled the sheets over his head to block out the light until sleep faded from his mind, and he was fully alert. As he tugged the sheets down and scanned the bedroom, recollections of the previous day filled his mind with overwhelming discourse. Conflicting emotions tangled behind his eyelids, impeding him from determining how he truly felt about this new living arrangement.

Will rolled over to look at the clock. His gaze stopped on the black, velvet box sitting next to the clock. He took it in his hand, rolling it across his fingers in a conscious effort to avoid the flutter of excitement he felt in his chest whenever he looked at Hannibal's gift.

Biting his lower lip, he eased the lid open to reveal the gleaming face of the timepiece. He lifted the watch from it's case, letting his thumb drag across the cool metal. The watch was ostentatious when paired with his pajamas, but he looped it around his wrist and buckled it taut. It rested heavy against his skin as Hannibal's words echoed through his head. _Our time almost ran out, but now we have all the time in the world._

Will glanced over at the massive view of the spacious mountains.

_All the time in the world._

He threw back the covers and rose from the bed, leaving the swallowing view from his bedroom window behind him. He made a stop at the bathroom before heading downstairs where the smell of eggs and sausage permeated the air.

Hannibal moved with seamless precision around the kitchen, keeping an eye on three different skillets. Will leaned against the bar, watching the graceful dance with quiet appreciation.

“Good morning, Will.” Hannibal said.

Will smiled as he continued to cook, body movements not indicating that he had heard Will approach.

“Good morning.”

“How did you sleep?”

“Well enough after ...”

Hannibal glanced over his shoulder at Will. “After the nightmare?”

Will nodded.

“It will take time to adjust to living in a new, unfamiliar place. My hope is that, in time, your body and mind will grow accustomed to this place and feel relaxed and safe when you sleep. No more nightmares.”

“I used to have nightmares all the time when I lived back home in Wolftrap.” Will said, “I felt safe there, and I still dreamed.”

Hannibal turned off the burners, and scraped fluffy, scrambled eggs and sausage onto two plates.

“I believe there were extenuating circumstances then.” Hannibal said.

“You mean my encephalitis.”

Hannibal gave a curt nod. He took one of the plates from the counter and extended it to Will.

Will took the plate. “Thanks.”

Hannibal brought his own plate around the bar to sit next to Will. Will stiffened as Hannibal's hand slid across his back on his way to the bar stool next to Will. It was a simple, chaste touch, no implications attached, but Will felt it to his core.

They ate breakfast in silence for several moments before Will cleared his throat. He motioned to the window above the couch, that looked out to the mountains and the road leading down to the city.

“We're isolated up here. How do we get the necessities?” Will asked.

“Groceries will be delivered weekly.” Hannibal said, “Whatever else we need, we can go down into the town to get. We have the Land Rover, but if you don't want to drive taxis available for the ride. Or if you wish, you can ski down and ride the lift back up the mountain.”

“I haven't skied since I was kid.” Will said, “For a short time me and my father lived in North Dakota, and I took a few lessons. If I recall, I wasn't very good at it.”

“Perhaps you just had the wrong teacher.” Hannibal said, “I can teach you, if you like.”

“We'll be here for the foreseeable future. Maybe it would be a good idea.”

“Finish your breakfast, and we can get started.”

“Now?”

“What better time than the present?” Hannibal smiled, and waved a hand to Will's plate, “Eat your breakfast.”

 

~

 

Half an hour later, Will and Hannibal stood at the front of the chalet in ski gear, gazing down the steep, snow covered hill.

“How do I stop?” Will asked, “It's a long way down.”

“First you must get onto the skis.” Hannibal said.

Will glanced down at the skis, and back down at the cavern below. “Maybe we should start with a smaller hill.”

“I won't let you crash.” Hannibal said.

He extended his hand, and a reassuring smile. Will took the proffered hand, squeezing Hannibal's fingers tight as he stepped into the skis. His heart jumped as his full weight rested on the skis and he felt himself slide forward. Hannibal other hand grabbed onto the back of his coat, anchoring him in place.

“Hold the skis to the side until you are ready to go.” Hannibal instructed.

Will shifted his feet inch by inch until the skis were tilted away from the incline and wedged into three inches of snow. His knees wobbled, and he gripped onto Hannibal's hand tighter.

“I'm not sure about this.”

Hannibal stepped into his own skis, keeping both hands on Will.

“I told you, I won't let you crash.” Hannibal soothed, “Do you trust me?”

Will scoffed, and grumbled under his breath.

“Is that a no?” Hannibal asked, amusement lacing his tone.

“I trust you.” Will mumbled.

“Here, take your poles.”

Will took the poles and dug them into the snow, though he didn't trust them to balance him quite as much as Hannibal's hand had.

“Keep most of your weight on your heels and the arches of your feet.” Hannibal said, “The rest of the weight should rest on the poles.”

Will tested Hannibal's instructions, finding that they did help him find his balance.

“Bend your knees.” Hannibal said, “Lean forward just a bit.”

Will glanced over at Hannibal, mimicking Hannibal's position on the skis. His hands trembled around the poles, and if he glanced down the slope, he had vivid images of crashing into the trees.

“We are going to do what is called a 'gliding wedge'.” Hannibal said, “You start out with both skis pointed toward the slope, but when your release, you will bring the front of the skis together, and the back of the skis apart. It creates friction against the snow so that you can stop. To stop, you simply apply more weight to your left foot. The weight should be incremental so that you glide smoothly to a stop.”

“That simple, huh?”

“Yes.” Hannibal said, “Once you learn the motions, it will be easy.”

“I feel like this is a bad idea. Did I say that?”

“You said you wanted to learn, and I am a good teacher.”

Will chuckled, “That depends what you're teaching.”

“Are you insulting my skiing abilities?” Hannibal asked, a smile curling the corner of his mouth.

“Of course not.”

“Good. Now, turn your skis toward the slope.”

Will suppressed a groan as he shifted his skis to face straight toward the steep slope ahead. He dug the poles into the ground, holding himself still.

“If you feel you are losing control of your speed, call out for me, and I'll stop you.” Hannibal said.

“You'll stop me?”

“Yes.”

“How will you do that?”

“I will catch you.”

Will raised his eyebrows, but didn't argue. Hannibal wouldn't be pleased until he had gone down the hill at least once. Perhaps if he survived one attempt, they could go back inside.

“Remember to keep your form.” Hannibal said, “Knees bent, leaning forward, utilizing the gliding wedge.”

“For the record, this is a bad idea.”

Hannibal ignored him, and motioned to the slope, “Lift your poles, and you will go.”

Will drew in a deep breath. “Here goes nothing.”

He yanked the poles out of the snow, and glided forward. At first, it was a gentle motion, but as he sailed over a small rise in the slope, he gained momentum down the hill. In a matter of moments, he was speeding across virgin snow, and the bottom of the slope was racing toward him. Cold air filled his lungs as he drew in a panicked breath. All memory of Hannibal's instructions departed his mind as he sailed at an uncontrollable speed down the steep slope.

When he struck another bump, the impact rattled through his knees. The skis separated at the tip, dragging his legs farther and farther apart as he went on. He tried to bring the skis back together, but his wobbling legs didn't have the strength to regain his form against the the friction of the packed snow. Recalling the poles, he slammed them into the ground to slow his pace. Momentum ripped the poles out of the snow, disrupting his straight shot down the hill. He took a jagged turn to the right as the pole trailed behind him, dragging through snow, and at last, flying free of his hand.

“Hannibal!”

His cry was lost to the howling wind and the vast circumference of the mountains around them. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the impact.

A hand clamped warm and strong around his arm, bringing his chaotic motion to a jolting halt. His shoulder burned from the harsh pull, but relief flooded his chest as he opened his eyes to see Hannibal at his side. Hannibal held his skis wedged to the side in the snow, his body supporting Will against his chest and shoulder. Will clung to his shoulders, legs drained of strength by the adrenaline racing through his veins.

“You cannot stop with your poles, Will. I told you, you must stop with your skis.” Hannibal chided, gently.

“This isn't a beginners hill.” Will argued, “What did you expect?”

He sank to the snow, and struggled to unlock the skis from his boots.

“I never pegged you as a quitter, Will.”

“I'm not, but this was a bad idea. I think I remember saying that before you threw me down this hill.”

“I did not _throw_ you. I gave you clear instructions which you-”

“Let's just go back inside.” Will said, “That's enough lessons for today.”

“You barely tried.” Hannibal said, “You cannot give up after one crash.”

“Well, I am.”

Will rose to his feet, and tucked the skis under his arm. He started up the hill, fighting against wind and gravity toward the chalet which now appeared a mile away. He didn't think he had gone that far. It would be a long, challenging climb back to the top, but one he was willing to make if it meant escaping another skiing lesson.

Hannibal unlocked his skis from his boots, and hurried after Will. He caught up halfway back to the chalet, his shallow breaths creating clouds in the air.

“Perhaps it's a challenge for another day.” He said.

“With a better instructor.”

Hannibal pulled a hurt expression. Will felt his anger melt away at the look of utter disappointment in Hannibal's eyes. A chuckle bubbled up in his chest, and he pursed his lips over the amusement. Hannibal's eyes narrowed.

“What do you find so amusing?”

“Nothing, you just ...” Will's explanation trailed off into a burst of laughter.

Hannibal's frown deepened, “I am a perfectly good teacher, Will. It is you who are a terrible student. You did not listen to a word I said.”

Will stopped walking, and leaned on his pole as another surge of laughter burst from his chest. His amusement echoed off the high walls of the mountains, and was lost to the wind.

Hannibal gazed at him in confusion for another moment longer before a smile tugged at his lips.

“I do not understand.”

“You .. you ...” Will panted around his laughter, “You're taking this so seriously.”

“Because you were.” Hannibal retorted.

“Because you almost let me crash into the goddamn trees.”

“I told you I wouldn't let you crash, and I didn't.”

Will rubbed a hand over his jaw, quelling his laughter. He pulled his pole from the snow, and resumed his march up the hill. Hannibal scrambled after him, feet plowing through the thick snow to keep pace with Will.

“Will, I sincerely hope this doesn't mean you will give up on learning to ski. Most people would love to have to the opportunity to ski in the Swiss Alps.”

“Let's just agree to disagree about that.” Will said, waving his hand, “Maybe skiing isn't for me.”

“Fine. If you wish.”

When they reached the top of the hill, both of them were out of breath and, rosy-cheeked, and windblown. They peeled off their wet ski gear by the door, and stepped inside to the inviting warmth of the chalet.

“I'm going to change.” Will said, “I got my sleeves and pant legs wet.”

“Perhaps some hot chocolate is in order.”

“That would be great.”

Will walked up to his bedroom, stripping out of his wet clothes as soon as he was inside. He caught a glimpse of his himself in the mirror as he put on clean, dry clothes, pausing with one leg in the sweatpants.

He didn't recognize his own reflection for a moment. Didn't recognize the healthy glow on his cheeks, or the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. Didn't recognize happiness in his own expression.

Will tore his eyes away from the mirror, and finished dressing in haste. They'd been here for a matter of two days, barely enough time to shake off the horror of all that had happened, and start a new life. He was the same man he'd always been. This happiness was a product of momentary distraction, a fading feeling subject to change at any moment. He was sure of it.

When he got back down to the living room, Hannibal was carrying two frothing cups of hot chocolate to the living room coffee table.

Will sat down next to Hannibal, taking the warm mug between his chilled hands. He blew across the rim of the cup, watching as tiny ripples formed in the dark liquid.

“It's a bit clique.” Will said with a smile, “Hot chocolate on a cold day, in front of the fire.”

“Cliques are in place for a reason.” Hannibal said, “It's pleasant, isn't it?”

Will leaned back against the couch cushions and let out a sigh. “Yes.”

Hannibal sipped his drink in silence, but Will could feel his gaze resting heavy against his skull. Setting his cup on the coffee table, Will turned to confront Hannibal.

“So, are you going to tell me why you really took that out there so seriously?” He asked.

Hannibal blinked in momentary surprise before rearranging his face to it's usual unreadable, cool expression.

“You insulted my teaching skills.”

Will shook his head, “Your ego is not that fragile.”

“When it comes to you, perhaps it is.”

Will chewed the inside of his cheek. “No, you see, I think it's something more than that.”

“I'll elaborate if you promise you won't start laughing again.”

“I promise.” Will said.

Hannibal ducked his head, and chuckled.

“Go on.” Will urged, touching his knee.

“As you know, my parents died when I was very young. And then my sister. I wasn't adopted by my Uncle Robertus and Aunt Mirasaki until I was sixteen. Even then, they were not an adequate replacement for the family I had lost.”

Will swallowed hard as he realized where the explanation was headed. All amusement faded from his expression.

“I know this is painful for you to talk about. You don't have to tell me.” Will said.

“I said I would.”

Will sank back against the couch cushions.

“Normal is a feeling that has escaped me for a long time.” Hannibal said, “Normalcy in family, in growing up, in experiencing the world in a certain order. When I brought you here to this house, I wanted to give you a place that was as normal and safe as possible. After all that has happened, I thought it was the least I could do.”

“Teaching me how to ski … that's normal too?”

“Yes. It's innocuous and inconsequential to most people, but I felt it gave me a chance to teach you and help you learn as I once looked over Mischa.”

“I'm sorry.” Will whispered, “I'm sorry I laughed. It was rude-”

“Don't apologize. It was petty. Inconsequential, as I said.”

“But it matters to you.”

Hannibal's gaze darted from Will's, hiding his emotion in a swallow from his mug.

Will reached out, his fingers hovering over Hannibal's arm for brief moments before he withdrew his touch. Fear stopped him from acting without thinking, from touching Hannibal and baring his own emotions. If he acted now, if he let touching between them become normal, it would cross an invisible line that had already been tested by Hannibal's admittance of love for him, and Will's complacent response.

 

~

 

In the following days, they went on as if the intimate moment between them had never happened. Hannibal poured his emotions into his cooking during the day, and in the evening, when Will had retreated to his bedroom, he channeled his frustrations into swimming laps in the pool.

The gunshot wound and various other breaks and bruises from the fall had not entirely healed even after three months of rest, care, and painkillers, but Hannibal ignored the twinges of pain as he cut through the waters in smooth strokes.

He wasn't sure what he had expected. For Will to see this chalet and the gift of the watch, and fall into Hannibal's arms? For him to forget all that had happened under the shower of generosity, and the veneer of domesticity? No, that was what Hannibal had wanted; not what he expected. He knew Will much to well to expect it to be that easy.

A week after their arrival in the Alps, Hannibal was swimming relentless laps in the pool late in the evening, when he rose from the water on one side of the pool to see Will standing at the edge of the water.

Hannibal smoothed his wet hair back from his face, and braced himself on the edge of the pool.

“Will, I thought you had gone to bed.”

Will shrugged, “I couldn't sleep.”

Hannibal dragged himself to the steps, and climbed out of the pool. Will's gaze flicked up and down his scarcely clad body for brief moments before fixing on his face.

“What's wrong?” Hannibal asked.

“I just … couldn't sleep.”  
“More nightmares?”

Will sighed, and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Yes.” He whispered into his palm.

Hannibal snatched a towel from the lounge chair, and began to wipe down.

“Do you want to talk about them?” He asked.

“We can talk, not necessarily about the dreams.”

“Let me put on some clothes, and I'll come down.” Hannibal said.

“Okay.”

Will shuffled out of the pool room, his head down.

Hannibal stripped out of his swim trunks, and finished drying off in a rush. He was no stranger to the demons that haunted Will, or their affect of laying him vulnerable and malleable. Taking advantage of Will's vulnerabilities for deviant purposes wasn't a part of his interests any longer, but they did provide a foothold to climb over his defenses.

Hannibal dressed, and walked downstairs. Most of the lights were off, except for the lamp by the couch. Will sat against the arm of the couch, a glass of red wine cradled in his hand. Another glass sat on the coffee table.

Will motioned to the glass as Hannibal approached.

“We used to have a glass of wine with our conversations in therapy.”

“It serves to loosen the tongue a bit.” Hannibal said, taking the glass.

“Is that why you did it?” Will asked, a smile touching his lips.

“We were more than doctor and patient. A drink between friends is completely acceptable.”

Will took a sip of his wine, and gazed down into the dark liquid as he savored the taste.

“There's some tastes I'll always associate with my illness.” Will murmured, “This is one of them.”

“Perhaps it would be best if you avoided this particular taste if that is the case.”

“No, I have no stake in forgetting the past.”

“Some things are too painful to dwell on.”

“You'd like me to forget.” Will said, casting Hannibal a cutting gaze, “More than anyone else you've hurt me in ways that some people would think are unforgivable.”

“But you have forgiven me.”

“Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting.”

“You're still wary of me. It's understandable.”

Will gave an indistinct mumble, and took another swallow of the wine.

Hannibal bit back his impatience, and wondered where all his self-control had gone. He glanced at Will's wrist, smiling when he saw the watch resting just under Will's sleeve.

“I see you're still wearing my gift, despite your wariness.”

Will touched his wrist. “It's a nice gift.”

“Is that the only reason you're still wearing it?”

Will tilted his head, eyes narrowing on Hannibal's expectant expression. “It's not, and you know it.”

“I'm pleased, of course.”

Will's mouth curved in a cynical smile. He set his wineglass on the coffee table, and rose from the couch to gaze out the window. Most of the landscape beyond was swallowed by the darkness, but jagged peaks of the mountains were visible by the light of the moon. He seemed focused on those sharp edges and white caps that claimed the sky where no one could reach.

“Would you like something to go with it?” Hannibal asked.

He approached Will from behind, watching the tense lines of his shoulders and the tilt of his head. Curls rested soft and thick against his neck where a sliver of flesh showed between his hair and the collar of his shirt.

“Like what?” Will asked.

Hannibal reached up to touch the back of Will's neck, drawing a shiver of Will. He dragged his thumb across the soft skin, and reached around his with his fingers to feel the hollow between Will's collarbones.

“I think a chain would go nicely here.” He murmured, “Something gold, I think.”

Will's head tilted back, throat straining against Hannibal's gentle touch. He took a faltering step back to escape the pressure, but ran into Hannibal's chest. He halted, nostrils flared, chest rising in shallow, titillated breaths.

“A gem of some sort, right here.” Hannibal said, pressing his fingertips deeper against the base of Will's throat.

Will squirmed out of Hannibal's grasp and paced to the other side of the room. His hand touched his throat, massaging the skin as if burned.

“Sure, whatever you want.” He said.

Hannibal pursed his lips over a smile. “I'll surprise you, then.”

 

~

 

Will woke the next morning to his bedroom door sliding shut on Hannibal's heels. Will frowned, and rubbed his eyes as Hannibal approached the bed.

“Good morning, Will.” Hannibal said.

“What is it?” Will asked, suppressing a yawn.

Hannibal sat down on the bed next to him, and pulled out a rectangular black box from behind his back. Will tugged his hands down from his face, and gazed suspiciously at the box.

“What is that?”

Hannibal pressed the box into Will's hands. “For you.”

Will pushed himself upright, and held the box in both hands. He cast a glance between Hannibal and the box, his heart beginning to pound with anticipation.

“Open it.” Hannibal urged.

Will tugged the lid off the box to reveal a second box inside. The black velvet was unmistakable.

“Hannibal-”

“Just open it.”

Will sighed, and opened the jewelry case. The sound of displeasure caught into his throat, twisting into a gasp of awe as his gaze took into the gold chain and the glittering, red pendant in the center.

“I-I don't know if I can accept this.” Will choked, shaking his head.

“It's a gift.” Hannibal said.

“This is … this is too much.” Will argued, closing the lid of the box, “You already gave me the watch-”

“You deserve every fine thing.” Hannibal said, pressing the box into Will's palms, “I will not take it back.”

Will swallowed hard, and drew in a deep breath as he opened the lid of the box again to gaze down at the necklace. He touched the stone at the center of the pendant, noting the multitude of meticulous cuts that created a multifaceted, glittering face.

“I didn't think you meant it … last night.” He murmured.

“I don't often speak without meaning what I am saying.”

“I should be saying 'thank you'.”

“I don't expect anything in return, except that you wear it.”

Will met Hannibal's soft, attentive gaze, and felt his cheeks flush hot. He ducked his head, ashamed by the fluttering of his heart that was too easily aroused by Hannibal's attentions.

“Here, let me put it on you.” Hannibal said.

Will gave him the case, and turned around on the bed. Plucking the delicate necklace from the case, Hannibal brought it around Will's neck and clasped it. His fingertips smoothed Will's hair back from the necklace, gaze consuming the sight of Will's pale skin against the glittering gold chain.

“Perfect.” He murmured.

Will drew in a shuddering breath and turned back around to escape the caress against his neck.

Hannibal perused him with a pleased eye. He reached out to touch necklace at Will's throat, fingers lingering against the ridge of Will's collarbone when his hand began to slip away.

“When will you admit to me that you like it?” He asked, turning a penetrating gaze to Will's eyes.

Will flushed hotter, and turned his face away.

“When will you accept that you deserve everything I could possibly give you?”

“I don't, I-”

“Will.”

Hannibal caught Will's chin between his fingers, and gently turned his face to meet his eyes. Will swallowed hard, fighting back a wave of embarrassment.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered, “I just … No one has ever ...”

“No one has ever treated you this way before.” Hannibal finished, softly.

Will shook his head. “No, so I … Forgive me for not knowing how to respond.”

“You don't have to say anything. I can see that you like it.”

“I feel selfish.” Will murmured, touching the necklace self-consciously.

“You're not selfish. You've been through so much. You deserve to be treated well, and to have everything your heart desires. Whatever you want, it's yours.”

Will peeked up at Hannibal through his lashes, cheeks burning. Hannibal eyes were warm, his mouth curved in an encouraging smile.

“I don't need much.” He murmured.

“I'm not talking about needs.” Hannibal said, “I'm talking about wants. Desires.”

“Ridiculous, expensive stuff like jewelry?” Will asked, scraping out a chuckle.

“Yes. And whatever other whimsy crosses your mind.”

Hannibal touched Will's cheek with his thumb, but Will turned his cheek away, certain Hannibal could feel the burning temperature of his embarrassment.

“I know what you're trying to do.” He said.

“What's that?”

“You're trying to ingratiate yourself to me.” Will said, lifting his chin, “You admitted it to me the first day we got here. You can't fool me anymore.”

“I am not trying to disguise my intentions. They are as I've stated – to give you everything you haven't had before.”

“For nothing in return?”

“Yes.”

Will frowned, and worried at the necklace, unconvinced.

“You have difficulty wrapping your mind around such an arrangement.”

“Yeah, I mean … everything comes with a price tag. Don't take this the wrong way, but our relationship hasn't exactly come without cost in the past.”

“I'm aware of our previous relationship, but as you said, it's in the past. I intend for it to be much different from now on.”

“I keep expecting you to ask for something.” Will whispered, “Anything … I know you want something.”

“There are many things I want, but for now, I know I can't have them. And this time, I won't tempt fate by trying to change that.”

Will slid his gaze up to meet Hannibal's, aware of the strained quality Hannibal's voice had taken on. His eyes rested dark and heavy against Will's skin, desire hiding behind layers of platitudes and self-control.

“I know what it is you want.” Will said, his voice growing quiet and hoarse, “I've seen it in your eyes for so long, but I was in denial about it before.”

“Why do you say before?”

“I'm not in denial anymore. I can't keep lying to myself about the way you feel about me.”

“And what way do you interpret that I feel about you?”

Will swallowed hard as a fresh wave of heat filled his cheeks and throat.

“You want me.” He whispered, “You want to touch me.”

Hannibal drew in a shallow breath through flared nostrils. His gaze broke from Will's and focused on a distant spot on the opposite wall. His jaw flexed in a rhythmic push against raging need that shone apparent in the pale blush on his cheeks.

Will stared into his lap, rubbing his sweating palms against each other in an attempt to dry them.

Hannibal rose to his feet as if to leave, but he lingered, shifting anxiously, next to the bed. Will glanced up at him, heart pounding like a bass drum through his whole body.

“I want you to know something, Will.” Hannibal said, the low grate of his voice shattering the silence yawning between them.

Will blinked, and nodded.

“I will never force you.” Hannibal said, pointing a finger at him, “I will not touch you until you want me to. Laying the truth bare between us does not change that fact.”

Will's brain lay blank in shock for several moments before he worked up a choked reply. “Well … that's good.”

Hannibal's expression smoothed. He gave Will a taut smile, and motioned to the door. “Come downstairs. Breakfast is nearly ready.”

He departed the room, leaving the tension of their words hanging thick in the air.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Will wore the necklace though self-consciousness clung to him. It hung heavy around his throat despite it's fragility, a constant reminder of the truth that hedged at the boundaries between them. Hannibal didn't comment on his desires again, instead going through the routines of daily life as if nothing had changed between them; as if they were still only friends.

There was a time when Will would have done anything to keep the emotions between them from becoming known and self-aware. He would have done anything to forget their bond and go back home to Molly. Now, the knowledge rested against his chest like brick, and he couldn't breathe easily knowing Hannibal's feelings were, in part – if not entirely – requited.

A month passed like an eternity, each day stretching between morning and evening and holding the possibility that one of them might break.

On occasion, Hannibal left the chalet and traveled down the mountain to the town below for certain supplies the grocery delivery didn't supply. When he left, Will wandered around the house, breathing deep into his lungs a false sense of relief that he was alone with his raging thoughts. When they were together, it was too easy to imagine that Hannibal could see right through his skull and into his hidden fantasies.

That day, a month after their arrival here, Will languished on the couch while Hannibal took a particularly lengthy trip into town. The house was silent, and he listened to the ticking of the clock, while he tried to focus on a book.

He put the book down after reading the same paragraph three times and not comprehending a word. Grabbing the remote, he turned on the TV and absently watched a talk show in German. He might have been able to drown out his thoughts with mindless entertainment, but barely any channels had English. The sound of their foreign words faded out of focus as his mind journeyed out of the living room.

He touched the necklace at his throat, rolling the ruby across his thumb and forefinger as he envisioned Hannibal returning to the chalet, arms loaded with paper sacks. Coat dusted with snow. Cheeks rosy from the cold. Hair a bit disheveled by the wind.

Will stretched out on the couch, a smile aching at his lips. He drew his teeth hard across his lower lip. If Hannibal arrived home to see him lying here with his legs splayed across the cushions, the simplest way to make all of this tension and frustration go away would be for him to march across the room and touch Will until they both came. His lips might be a bit cold from the winter air, but they would warm quickly against the curve of Will's throat; his hands the same when they quested beneath the thin fabric of Will's boxers.

Will opened his eyes when a loud sound from the TV brought him back to reality. He scrambled upright, his cheeks growing hot as he realized the extent to which the thread of fantasy had taken him. A dull ache throbbed between his legs, hardened flesh tenting his trousers.

Clutching a hand over his face, he sucked in a shallow breath against the weight which had returned with full force against his sternum. He reached down to crush the burgeoning need, but the moment his hand touched his erection, need gushed hotter and faster to his brain. His fingers curled around the shaft, gripping against fabric in a trembling caress. He tried to remember the last time he'd experienced sexual gratification, but discarded the explanation. It didn't matter; what mattered was that the dormant desires of his body were awake, converging on him all at once.

Hands shaking, Will fumbled to get the front of his pants open. The moment the pressure on his erection was relieved, he felt a fresh, hot pulse of need spike through him. He got the pants down around his thighs, and shoved his hand under his boxers to grasp the length of his throbbing cock. His held fell back against the arm of the couch, a low moan spilling from his lips as pleasure crowded in from all corners of his brain. He dragged his fist hard and fast over his cock, coaxing the lurking pleasure to a driving pace that threatened to drag him over the edge in moments.

Will's throaty moans choked off in his throat when he heard the sound of the front door slamming. His eyes jarred wide open, blood surging to his cheeks in raw, burning shame. He scrambled to pull his pants back up, zipping the fly over his weeping cock just moments before Hannibal's voice echoed through the chalet.

“Will?”

Will sat upright, and turned his attention to the TV. Rubbing a hand over his cheek, he prayed Hannibal wouldn't notice, or at least not mention, the blush blazing across his face.

“Will, there you are.”

Hannibal entered the living room, dusting snow off his coat. His cheeks and nose glowed rosy from the cold, matching Will's imagination down to the stray strands of hair across his forehead. Will swallowed hard, and shifted to hide the swollen state of his crotch.

“Hey, I was wondering if you got lost.” Will said, grinding out a laugh.

“No, I had to get something extra today.” Hannibal said, a smile curling his mouth.

He paused when Will gazed up at him, blank and unfocused.

“Will, are you quite all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Will stammered, plastering a smile on his face, “I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?”

“I don't know. You look a bit flushed.”

Will bit into his lower lip, and sank into the couch. The flush that had begun to fade from his cheeks returned in full color and heat.

“Are you ill?” Hannibal asked.

He strode across the room, and sat down next to Will. He reached out a hand to test for a fever, but Will ducked away from his caress.

“I'm fine. Really.” Will insisted.

Hannibal frowned. His head tilted to one side as he gave Will a critical inspection, pausing almost imperceptibly at Will's crotch.

He rose abruptly from the couch, and motioned for Will to follow him.

“I have something for you.”

Will followed, hurriedly adjusting himself while Hannibal's back was turned.

“You said you had to get something extra? I hope it's not another extravagant gift, because I've told you before that I don't really ...”

Will's protests faded away as Hannibal knelt down next to a cardboard box that sat in front of the door. The lid of the box wiggled, and a small whining noise came from within.

“Hannibal, what ...?”

Hannibal smiled, crooking his finger at Will. “Come here.”

Will staggered to the entryway and sank to his knees next to Hannibal.

“Open it.” Hannibal said.

Will held his breath as he reached out to lift the lid. The box shifted again, a wiggle of excitement. Snatching the lid away, Will felt his mouth drop open as a pair of huge, blue eyes gazed up at him. Two big, brown paws clawed at the edge of the box, launching the puppy from the cardboard confines and into Will's lap. Will fell to his butt as he was overwhelmed by the press of paws against his chest and eager, pink tongue nudging him into the face.

Hannibal watched with a pleased smile as Will struggled to get the armload of puppy under control.

“I take this reaction as you like my gift.” Hannibal said.

Will looked up from rubbing behind the puppy's huge, floppy ears, his eyes wet and glimmering.

“I can't believe you did this.” Will whispered.

“I seem to recall in a previous conversation that you missed your dogs.” Hannibal said, “There's a shelter in town, and a vet. I was able to get all her medical needs taken care of after I signed the papers at the shelter. I have food and toys in the other bags. You don't need to do anything else but train her.”

“Thank you.” Will whispered, “I don't know what else to say, but this is the best gift you've ever gotten me.”

“I thought you would think so.” Hannibal said, “She's a German Shorthaired Pointer, a very active but friendly breed. The woman at the shelter informed me that training them can be difficult, but I think you're up to the challenge. I've noticed you wandering around the house the past few weeks, aimless. Perhaps training the dog will give you new incentive and fulfillment.”

Will's smile faded. He rubbed behind the dog's ears, avoiding Hannibal's gaze.

“So, you noticed that ...”

“It's okay to be unhappy.” Hannibal said, “Human beings thrive when they have a purpose, and a reason to wake up each and every day. I know living here, isolated from the world, is not the ideal situation for active people like ourselves to be in. I have my cooking, but when I brought us here, I took you out of your element. There's no fishing in the Swiss Alps, or boat motors for that matter.”

“The price of being on the run, I suppose.” Will murmured.

“I don't want you to be unhappy, Will.” Hannibal said, “I want you to be here with me, but I have no fantasies about you taking up cooking or art. I have to be aware of your interests as well as my own. Any good partnership is based on mutual understanding and trust.”

“Partnership?”

“Yes. We killed together, and we ran away together. Now we are living under the same roof, existing parallel to one another with the common interest of evading the authorities. It is, for all intents and purposes, a partnership.”

“I suppose you're right.”

Hannibal rose from the ground, and took the bags with him to the kitchen. Gathering the dog in his arms, Will followed to where Hannibal unloaded the sacks onto the kitchen table. Will ran his gaze over the numerous dog toys, supplements, bags of organic dog food, and books on training and care.

“How much did you spend on her?” Will asked.

“I've never been a pet owner, but if I am to become one now for your sake, I intend to do it correctly.” Hannibal said.

“Still, I didn't expect this kind of commitment to an animal from you.” Will murmured.

The dog yipped and wiggled in his arms, panting and eager to run. Will let her go down to the floor, watching with a smile as the dog scampered around their feet, sniffing out her new home.

“They are great hunters.” Hannibal said, “I thought that was fitting.”

Will avoided Hannibal's pointed gaze. “I'll have to take her outside a lot.”

“Yes, two hours of exercise is the minimum the vet told me. I'm sure you could use the exercise as well. Work out some excess energy, perhaps.”

Will caught Hannibal's gaze, and felt himself flush again at the implications. He knew. God, he knew every little thought that had been going through Will's head for the past month. He was just waiting for the right moment to leverage that knowledge against Will. In a moment of weakness, Will knew that knowledge in Hannibal's mouth could destroy him; when the moment came, he didn't know if he would be strong enough to resist.

 

~

 

Hannibal watched from the window as Will stood over Dotty, the horrendous name he had chosen for the dog, uttering commands in a firm, but gentle tone.

It had only been a week since Hannibal had brought the dog home, but he already saw a marked improvement in Will's attitude. He spent hours with Dotty every day, using short training sessions in between long runs around the chalet, and rewarded her often with treats. When they came inside after training and exercise, Will was rosy-cheeked and smiling, and Dotty was thoroughly exhausted.

Hannibal could merely shake his head and smile. His fondness for animals had never gone farther than the desire to create something beautiful in the kitchen out of their meat. The snails he'd kept as a child had experienced the most care he could offer, and their destination remained the dinner table.

Yet, Hannibal felt a strange fondness for Dotty, which he had to attribute to her direct link to Will's improved contentment. She wouldn't be going anywhere near the kitchen; in fact, if her life were ever in danger, Hannibal would do anything he could to save her for Will.

Simultaneously, Hannibal cursed his determination to make Will happy outside of himself. Dotty put another deterrent between the progression of he and Will's relationship. The next level was just waiting to be reached, if only Will could lower his defenses long enough to accept his feelings. There had been a time when he would have done anything to have Will to himself; he would have destroyed anything that stood between them if it meant winning Will's affection. Now, he couldn't shake the imagine of Will's joy and happiness when he first saw Dotty clambering her way out of the cardboard box.

Hannibal jarred from his thoughts when the front door opened to admit a gust of winter air, and both Will and Dotty. Dotty's nails scraped eagerly across the floor, but Will reined her in by her leash so that he could towel her dry.

Hannibal stepped into the hallway to watch as Will talked in low, sweet tones to the dog as he wiped her coat down with a towel.

“Perhaps you did not run her long enough.” Hannibal remarked.

“She'll settle down in a minute.” Will assured him without a looking up.

“I do not want to find her chewing on the furniture or ripping the curtains down.”

“She won't.” Will said. He rubbed behind the dog's ears, and cooed, “She's a good girl. You're a good girl, aren't you, Dotty?”

Hannibal suppressed a sigh.

Will held onto the leash as he shrugged out of his coat and kicked off his shoes. He caught Hannibal's terse expression, and chuckled, “If you were so worried about the furniture, you shouldn't have got me such a high-strung dog.”

“They are good hunters and watchdogs.” Hannibal said, “Those attributes appealed to me.”

“Of course they did.” Will smirked.

He unhooked the leash from Dotty's collar, and let her go. She darted across the hardwood floors, skidding to the side as she rounded the corner to the living room. Hannibal cringed as she ran circles around the couch, coming dangerously close to running into the glass coffee table.

“They're also very family-oriented and get easily attached to their owners.” Will said, joining Hannibal at the entrance of the living room, “I'm sure those attributes are just as appealing.”

“Of course.” Hannibal said, “But, no offense to your love of dogs, Will, but the only logical purpose for having an animal in the house is for their value as a defense against intruders and the like.”

“That's the logical purpose. The not logical purpose is that they can be the best friends in the world.” Will said, his gaze going distant, “You know, I've never forgotten any pet that I've ever owned, from childhood until now. I can remember all their names, faces, personalities, likes and dislikes. They were the best friends I ever had.”

Hannibal gazed at Will's thoughtful profile. He couldn't help but feel his chest warm at the nostalgic quality in Will's voice.

“Dogs don't talk back to you.” Will said, a smile stretching across his lips, “They don't hurt you, at least not intentionally. They will be loyal to you at any cost, and all you have to do is feed them and give them really good belly rubs.”

“I suppose I see the advantage.” Hannibal allowed.

“If you experienced my life for just one day, hell, even a couple of hours, you would understand completely.” Will said, “When you can't control how much you empathize with others, how much painful things in the world can affect you, being around an animal that does nothing but shower you with love is the best part of your day ...”

Hannibal pursed his lips as he watched Will's expression go soft, his eyes moist. The light streaming through the window cradled his face in a warm glow, illuminating the tiny, flyaway hairs that stood like a halo from the rest of his curls.

“Will,” He whispered, reaching out to touch the smooth skin of his forearm, “I'm sorry If I ever hurt you.”

Will's gaze jarred from Dotty's raucous motion around the living room to meet Hannibal's apologetic expression.

“You must believe me when I say, I always wanted what was best for you.” Hannibal added, before the words could lodge in the back of his throat.

“It didn't always feel like that.” Will whispered.

“Perhaps I was too rough with you, but I promise to you, I always wanted to be a part of the solution, not a part of the problem.”

A frown furrowed Will's brow. “Because you wanted me to become a killer, like you. Did you ever think that was what was best for _you_ , not me?”

“Will, you can't deny what you felt when we slayed the Dragon together. You can't deny the power that coursed through your veins when his blood stained your skin.”

“I won't deny it. I won't deny that I felt powerful a long time before that, when I killed Garrett Jacob Hobbs. But, if you had been more gentle, maybe I would have come to the realization all on my own. Maybe I wouldn't have tried to kill you. Maybe I wouldn't have left for three years, and married someone else.”

They both paused at the implication of that last remark. Will's gaze cut away, focusing on the landscape beyond the panel of glass across from them. Sunlight darted behind clouds, casting the clench of Will's jaw into shadow. The shine in his blue eyes faded like a sky plunging into a dusk with no stars.

“Will-” Hannibal began.

“Maybe that's enough theorizing for one day.” Will said, flashing a terse smile, “What's done is done, right? We should both move on.”

He marched to the staircase to the second floor, whistling and calling for Dotty to follow him. The dog barked, and darted after him, nosing at his heels as he strode upstairs. He was gone before the the unhappy knot in Hannibal's throat could fade.

 

~

 

Will dreamed he stood on a precipice, an icy, cold brink that crumbled under his weight. Shards of snow broke off and tumbled into the abyss, like glass shattering and disappearing into shadow. The chasm yawned before him, throbbing fiery heat that warmed his cheeks like hellfire, yet begged him to come closer.

He wavered on the edge, maintaining his balance with only his arms stretched out to hold him in place. His bare feet slid through the ice and snow, closer to the edge with each passing moment.

“Will?”

He heard a voice from behind him, calling through the roar of fire and the din of his own panicked thoughts. He turned to look over his shoulder, hoping, praying that this person could save him.

Molly stood behind him, her hair loose about her shoulders. She was dressed in a black evening gown that flowed to her feet and blended into the shadows. She approached him, her eyes wide and streaming tears – bloody tears.

“Will,” She whispered, “Why did you abandon me?”

“Molly!” He cried, “Please, I'm sorry!”

She came closer, her head tilted down, her jaw taut with anger. Blood streamed freely down her cheeks from underneath the shards of glass that now rested over her eyes.

“Molly, please, help me.” He whispered.

His feet slipped against the snow, and he could feel the heat from the abyss burning his toes. The pull of the fire was strong, like a magnet now, sucking him toward the darkness.

“You never loved us.” She whispered.

“No, that's not true. I loved you more than anything. You saved me, Molly.”

“No. You're a liar. You never loved us. You always loved _him._ ”

She reached out her hands, and he reached for her. But just as their fingertips brushed, he felt her anger flowing from her skin. She shoved him with both hands, hard against his spine, tipping him forward over the edge.

Free falling, he felt the heat of the fire swallow him. Just as he reached the flames, he looked up to see her standing at the edge, her hands curled into fists at her sides. Her mouth and eyes shone with shards of glass, and her skin was pale as death. She didn't move as he fell into the yawning maw of the hungry flames.

Will jarred awake, emerging from the sensation of falling with a panicked shout. He sat up in the bed to find himself tangled in the sheets and dripping with sweat. The movement and noise woke Dotty, who had been curled up next to him in the bed. She climbed to her feet, and began to whine in his face, wet nose and mouth nudging at his cheek to comfort him.

“I'm sorry, girl.” He murmured, giving her a reassuring rub behind her ears, “I'm okay. Go back to sleep.”

She settled back down on the mattress, head flopping against her paws in sleep. Will sighed, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He knew he wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight.

He crept out of the room, and downstairs to the bathroom where they kept the medication. He swallowed two Asprin before he caught his own harried expression in the mirror. His hair was a sweaty, tangled mess, and his cheeks burned hot with exertion. It was a face he had grown to know all too well when he was suffering from encephalitis.

“Fuck.” He muttered, leaning over the sink.

Since their arrival in the Alps, he'd spent more than a few torturous hours agonizing over Molly, and what she might be going through now that he was gone. His poor, sweet Molly, so certain she could save him. Only the dream version of her would ever know the truth about Hannibal; the truth Will knew but wouldn't dare speak.

Will took a quick shower to clean off the sweat, and went upstairs to the reading nook. The small room held two book cases against each wall, a couch between them, and a window above the couch. When he laid down across the couch, he could look out and see the stars above. From that angle, he couldn't see the snow or the steep slope below them, just the night sky swallowing him up. It felt safe.

Will ignored the books on the shelf in favor of losing himself in that safety. He could identify most of the constellations above. Orion, above the horizon, and Jupiter nearby, so bright. Even miles away from his old life, some of the stars would always be the same.

“Will, you're awake.”

Will startled upright to see Hannibal standing in the doorway. He wore swim trunks, and held a towel between his hands. His hair was dripping wet, clinging to the back of his neck.

“So are you.” Will said.

“I often come up here to take a swim when I can't sleep.”

“You couldn't sleep either?”

“I don't often sleep more than five hours, but tonight, I couldn't rest my mind even that long.” Hannibal said.

He draped the towel around his neck, and walked along the front of a bookshelf, perusing the spines with their emblazoned titles and authors. His fingertips ran along their edges, pausing over one that caught his eye.

Will swallowed hard, averting his gaze from Hannibal's naked, wet back and the spandex swim trunks clinging to the rounded curves of his backside.

“I had another bad dream.” Will said.

Hannibal glanced up from the book he had plucked from the shelf. “I didn't expect you to tell me freely.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“You are a man afflicted by the rigors of an overactive imagination. Imagination more often than not comes with the side affect of bad dreams.”

Will scrubbed his hands over his face. “It's not just imagination. It's experience.”

“You were reliving an event?”

“A … reconstruction.”

Hannibal didn't respond, but Will could hear him thinking, analyzing.

Will lifted his hands from his face, and looked up at Hannibal's inquisitive expression.

“It was about Molly.” He whispered.

Hannibal gave a short nod. “I see.”

“I was remembering her … how I … how I imagined her being killed by the Dragon.”

“As far as you know, she's not dead.”

“No, she's not, but … that's how I imagined her. That's how I imagine I left her feeling.”

“You're feeling guilty that you disappeared, leaving her bereft.”

Will nodded.

“You were married to her. It's understandable.”

“I'm _still_ married to her. If I don't intend for us to get caught by the police, I will be for the rest of my life.”

“On paper.”

Will gazed down at his left hand, the gold band still glinting around his fourth finger. He ripped the ring off, scraping flesh against his knuckle in his haste.

“Why have you continued to wear it for so long?” Hannibal asked.

“I didn't see any reason to take it off, until now.”

“You still love her?”

Will squeezed the ring in his palm until the edges bit into his skin.

“Of course I do. I married her. Those feelings don't just go away, and no matter what you've said to me, she wasn't just a distraction. It was real.”

“I won't try to discount your experiences, but you have to be honest with yourself, Will. Should you ever see Molly again, could it be the same? After what you've done, what you've let yourself feel, could you reenter that relationship as if you had never left?”

Will swallowed hard, his vision blurring. He pressed his fingertips to his eyelids, stemming the flow of emotion, but not the truthful answer that slipped from his lips. “No.”

“You have to let her go, Will.”

Hannibal knelt down in front of Will, taking both hands in his own. His eyes implored Will's, beguiling suggestion resting in their dark, alluring depths.

Will closed his eyes, and turned his head away. “I know.”

“Do you? Will, for your own sake, you must let it go. For your own sanity. This guilt you feel will drive you mad if you let it.”

“What do you suggest I do?” Will asked, turning a steely gaze back to Hannibal, “How do I let go of three years of my life, three years of love and commitment I put into someone I really cared about?”

“You accept that no longer being with her is for the best. Have you considered that, given your dark urges, she's better off without you?”

“Dark urges.” Will muttered.

He twisted his hands out of Hannibal's grasp and rose from the couch. He weighed the ring in his palm, painfully aware of how naked his finger felt without it.

“You mean my murderous urges. Let's not sugarcoat it.”

“That was more for your sake than mine.” Hannibal said, “You have a precedent of not accepting your true feelings.”

“You have a precedent of not telling me the truth.” Will said, “Or telling me half-truths to get what you want.”

“I'm telling you the whole truth now, as best I can.”

Will turned a scathing gaze to Hannibal's hurt expression. “You're still manipulating me, aren't you? Giving me gifts, buying Dotty for me, urging me to forget my wife … You want me for yourself, and you'll do anything to lead me blindly into your arms.”

“I've been honest with you.” Hannibal said, his eyes flaring with anger, “I admitted my feelings for your. Since our arrival here, I have never acted in a duplicitous or manipulative way. You aren't blind, Will, at least not by my hand – perhaps by your own.”

“You think I want to feel like this?” Will demanded, “Do you think I enjoy feeling like I'm being ripped in two by this place and my old life?”

“No, but you would do anything to deny you feel the same as I do. You know you want to kill, that you are compelled to take life because it makes you feel powerful, but when it comes to admitting your true feelings for me, you cannot stomach it.”

“Are your feelings hurt?” Will snapped, marching closer to where Hannibal stood, “Does it feel like I'm breaking your heart? Good. Good, Hannibal. I hope it hurts. I hope you know this is exactly how I felt when I found out all the things you'd done to betray me.”

Hannibal's hands curled into fists at his sides, and his cheeks flared hot and red. But he didn't strike out. He didn't respond.

“I can't just forget.” Will said, his voice descending into a whisper, “I can't just lock Molly up in my memory palace and move on. People are not finite events to me like they are to you. They are living, breathing memories that are going to haunt me forever.”

“I'm not asking you to forget.” Hannibal said, softly, “I'm asking you to let go of the things that you willfully allow to poison you.”

“Poison me? She was my wife. If anything, I deserve to be poisoned by her.”

“You deserve to be happy, Will. After everything you've been through, you deserve happiness. What's right or wrong about it doesn't matter.”

“But it does matter. Everything matters. Everything has a consequence. I can't move on and be happy with you when I know that Molly is out there somewhere, wondering where I am. Wondering if I'm dead or alive, if I left on purpose, if I betrayed her. I can't live knowing that it's true.”

“What will you do?” Hannibal asked, spreading his hands, “Will you live the rest of your life being eaten up by this guilt? If you are so unhappy here, you have free will to go. You can go back to your old life, Will. You can tell the FBI that I was responsible for everything. You can even tell them where I am.”

Will stood a step back, his throat swelling with tears.

“I don't understand.” He choked out, “Why would you do that for me?”

Hannibal let out a sigh. His eyes brimmed with glistening tears that clung to his eyelids, ready to fall.

“I've told you so many times, but you don't hear me.” He said, his voice thick and raw, “I've told you, Will. I love you. Maybe you didn't believe I was capable of that.”

Will ducked his head to escape the image of Hannibal's broken expression and the tears tracking their way down his cheeks.

“No,” He whispered, “I didn't.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Will and Hannibal avoided each other for the next several days, not with open intention, but with careful, elusive acts of distance and silence. When they spoke, they were civil and amiable. When they turned away, their faces were smeared with dread and unhappiness.

Will put his necklace and watch in their cases, and put the cases in the top drawer of dresser. The ring he left on the table by the clock, where it could remind him of his predicament.

The length of his training and exercise sessions outdoors with Dotty grew to hours and a time. He ignored the cold, and the brutal wind that came with this altitude, preferring chapped lips and frozen skin over sharing uncomfortable silence indoors with Hannibal. As a result, Dotty made leaps and bounds in her training while all other progress in their tiny sphere of existence halted.

Will was outside playing fetch with Dotty one crisp morning when Hannibal stepped out of the house in skiing gear. He carried his skis and poles to the front of the house where the slope began to drop off, and locked his boots into the skis.

Will jogged across the yard to where Hannibal stood with skis planted sideways in the snow.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“I'm taking a trip into town.” Hannibal said, “I'd ask you to come with me, but I know you couldn't keep up.”

Will clenched his teeth against an equally tart response.

“How long will you be gone for?” He asked, instead.

“An hour or more.” Hannibal said, focusing on adjusting the length of the poles.

“You know, I hate it when you leave and are gone for three hours at a time.” Will said, “It makes me worry something happened.”

“Sometimes there's a line at the lift.”

Will suppressed the urge to kick the poles out of Hannibal's hand just so Hannibal would look at him.

“You could always call me, to let me know what's going on.” Will muttered.

“That would make it seem like we are married.” Hannibal said, “We both know that's not true; you're married to someone else, remember?”

“Why are you being like this?” Will snapped.

At last, Hannibal looked at him. His brown eyes snapped hazel and irritation, the rough edge of something much more dangerous.

“Do I need to spell it out for you, Will?”

Will sighed, “Look, I'm shit at apologies. I realize that.”

“Apparently, since that is not an apology.”

Will gritted his teeth, and turned his face toward the cool gust of wind swooping down over the trees. It wasn't enough to cool his frustration.

“Some of what I said was … rude.” Will said, “I shouldn't have gone at you like that.”

Hannibal stuck his poles into the ground, and shifted the skis to face the slope ahead of him. Pulling his goggles down over his eyes, he gave a curt nod. “You're right. You shouldn't have.”

Before Will could offer another weak apology, he lifted the poles from the snow, and sailed down the slope. Will watched him ski down the hill until his white coat blended into the snow, and he was out of sight.

Dotty plowed across the snow to where he stood, nosing at his hands and legs for another toss of the ball. Will turned and hurled the ball across the yard with all his strength, letting out the shout that had been building in his throat for days. When Dotty darted across the yard to fetch the ball, he sank to his butt in the snow, and held his head between his hands.

He didn't know what was right anymore. His old life hovered in the shadows, but the emotions and desires of this new life held him captive. He tread water in the deep, dark sea of his existence, staying afloat, but going nowhere, bound to be stuck in this place of dread and desire forever if he couldn't find a way to decide between his past and the future Hannibal laid before him.

 

~

 

When Hannibal returned from town hours later, Will didn't attempt to speak to him. He stayed upstairs in the reading nook until Hannibal poked his head in to say dinner was ready.

Will sat on the edge of the couch, gathering his composure, until Hannibal called up the stairs for Will to hurry up. He trudged downstairs, stopping in the doorway when he saw Hannibal had prepared a rather elaborate meal. Three platters sat on the dinner table, along with a bottle of vintage wine cooling in a bucket of ice. Candles provided the only light in room.

“What's the occasion?” Will asked.

“No occasion is necessary to be compelled to create a work of art at the dining table.” Hannibal said.

Will took a seat, and spread his handkerchief across his lap. “It looks delicious.”

Hannibal took the wine bottle from the ice and poured them both full glasses. Will watched him with growing curiosity as he served them both from each platter of food. The moment gave Will a wave of intense deja vu, recalling the spectacular dinners Hannibal had once prepared at his home in Baltimore. For a moment, it was as if that old Hannibal was back – and it made Will more suspicious of his motivations than ever.

When Hannibal finished serving them, Will picked up his fork and knife to try the meat. The meat was juicy and sweet against his tongue, with a tang of honey and lemon that couldn't disguise the distinct flavor.

Will dropped his fork and knife to the table.

“This isn't pork.” He said.

Hannibal glanced up at him, undisturbed by the reaction. “No.”

Will gazed across the platters, more food than they could eat in one night.

“Did you kill someone in town?” He demanded, “Did you kill more than one person?”

“I've been famished for this specific type of liver.” Hannibal said, a devious smile curling his mouth, “The flavor is so much sweeter and richer than the processed kind I've been forced to purchase in town.”

“If someone is dead, there will be an investigation.” Will said, “If there's a police investigation, it goes into a database. What if word of this crime got back to the FBI?”

“Eat your dinner, Will.” Hannibal said, pointing with his fork to Will's plate, “I'd hate for my presentation to be spoiled by getting cold.”

“Don't you care if we get caught?” Will shouted.

Hannibal swallowed down his last bite of meat, and set his fork and knife neatly on either side of the plate. When he looked up at Will, his eyes reflected amusement in the dance of the candlelight.

“Apparently you do.” He said, “This comes as a surprise to me, seeing that, should we be caught, the FBI could not prove that you've done anything wrong except defend yourself against a maniac trying to kill you.”

Will felt heat rise to his cheeks, first out of shame, then anger.

“What happened to the man who brought me here? The one who bought me gifts, and told me that he loved me?”

Hannibal took a sip of his wine, and dabbed his mouth with his silk napkin.

“You don't want that version of me, Will.” Hannibal said, “I won't continue to delude myself into thinking that you do, or ever would. This is the version of me that you became friends with; the one you trusted.”

“The one who betrayed me.”

Hannibal considered the remark briefly before picking up his fork and knife and slicing into his dinner again. Will watched him eat with mounting frustration, but before he could fling a stinging insult, a realization struck him.

“You … you were willing to change for me?”

Hannibal's gaze stayed focused on his plate, his jaw working around a bite of food.

Will stared down at the plate of food, someone who had once lived at breathed like him.

“You would have given this up?” He whispered.

“It's of no consequence.” Hannibal said, stabbing his fork into a piece of meat, “You made it abundantly clear to me that you did not view my sacrifices as important to you.”

“It is of consequence.” Will said, rising from his chair, “I know that man is still in there somewhere.”

Hannibal looked up, his lips curling back in disgust.

“That man is weak and pathetic. You don't want him anyway, Will.”

“Loving someone is not weakness. It's strength, incredible strength. Maybe you don't know this, because it's been so long since you let anyone in, but it's so much harder to let yourself be vulnerable than to build walls. It's giving your heart to someone, and trusting them not to crush it.”

“But you did.” Hannibal said, dropping his utensils to the table. “I did what you are describing. I gave you a chance to reward my effort with trust. You are still focused on your old life, on your wife and the child you left behind. I can see that now. I won't continue to pursue you when I know the chances of having you are slim to none.”

“You don't understand.” Will said, slamming his fist into the table.

Silence settled across the room except for the tiny flicker of the candle flames.

Will paced away from the table, scraping his hands through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut against a wave of emotion.

“What don't I understand?” Hannibal asked, “Explain it to me, Will.”

Will spun around, and marched back to the table, right up next to Hannibal's chair.

“It's not that I don't want you.” Will said, bending down to gaze into Hannibal's guarded eyes, “But I have to find a way to let go of the life I clung to for so long before I can give myself to you. If I don't let go of it completely, I'd be giving you half of me, and I don't think you could live with that.”

Hannibal's eyelids fluttered to shield his gaze, pressing moisture to his cheeks.

“I am not one of your butterflies that you can squeeze to death and stick in a shadowbox.” Will whispered, “I am not some pretty thing for you to put on your shelf and admire. I'm more than a possession.”

Hannibal's eyes opened to meet Will's. “I know,” He murmured, “I know you're not.”

“I don't think you do.” Will said, “I think you want me to lay down in a cast, in a mold of your making. You want me to be exactly how you envision me in your mind – this perfect image of a partner and predator that fulfills all of your desires and interests, that goes along with everything you say and do. This perfect image that doesn't exist.”

“Will, you are perfect. To me.”

Will pressed his fingers over Hannibal's mouth, quelling the flow of grandiose praise.

“I'm not perfect.” Will murmured, “I'm broken – terribly, irreparably broken. The parts of me that I've lost are gone, and they're never coming back. The teacup never comes back together. What happens, happens, and we can't change that. We can only learn from it.”

Hannibal reached up to take Will's fingers, guiding them to his cheek where the moisture of his tears clung to the reassurance.

“Perhaps you are broken, Will. Perhaps I broke you. But I want you, just as you are.”

Will let out a breath, and lowered his head against the building pressure in the back of his throat. Breathing against the swelling knot in his throat, he tried to turn away from Hannibal's searching eyes.

Hannibal caught Will's cheek, turning his face up so that their eyes could meet. Will bit into his lip as tears swelled against his eyelids, blurring the vision of Hannibal's face and glint of apology in his eyes.

The tiniest part of his lips admitted a sob, releasing the emotions that built against his his chest for far to long. He allowed Hannibal to pull him down into his arms, burying his face in Hannibal's shoulder as the tears came in wracking bursts.

Hannibal's arms wound around him, pulling Will onto his lap in a suffocating embrace. His hand stroked through Will's hair and slipped down into soothing circles over his back, absorbing every tremble and sob that purged itself from Will's body.

Hannibal's own tears pressed to his eyelids, but he suffered in quiet relief. It was enough that Will had finally spoken his own truth, and that he was in Hannibal's arms. For tonight, it was enough.

 

~

 

Will felt a measure of the weight resting on his chest had lifted; not wholly, but in part so that he could manage it. Doubt still clung to the back of his mind like cobwebs in a seldom-used closet. Priorities had rotated through his mind; thoughts of Hannibal and their life here crawled with creaking bones and grasping fingers from the scarcely lit corners he had once feared to tread into, while his previous life sank into shadow, but not entirely forgotten. Thoughts of Molly rested at the back of his mind, silent but deadly, niggling with dread.

Will struggled on through the next few days, eager to shed his fear and nausea but still chained to the guilt that rested around his finger in the form of the gold wedding band. He wasn't sure why he continued to wear it; perhaps it was a type of self-punishment for the hell he was undoubtedly putting Molly through at this very moment.

When Hannibal touched him gently or put an arm around him while they lounged on the couch, Will closed his eyes and tried to relax into the secure embrace. The allure of safety and the promise of satisfaction Hannibal's arms offered, however, wasn't entirely enough to drive thoughts of Molly from his mind.

At last, three days after their intimate moment in the dining room, Hannibal gave voice to the concerns ebbing and flowing between them.

“What's wrong?” He asked, softly.

Will pressed his forehead tighter against Hannibal's shoulder.

“Nothing.” He mumbled.

“You don't have to lie to me.”

Will heaved a weary sigh, and sat upright. Hannibal muted the TV, turning his full attention to Will.

“It's this … still.” Will said, holding out his hand which bore the wedding ring.

“Of course.”

“You knew?”

“Life's problems are rarely solved by one release of emotion, no matter how profound.” Hannibal said, “I didn't expect you to let her go because we were honest with each other.”

“I know I can't escape this.” Will whispered, “Part of me accepts that this is where I belong now. With you.”

“The other part still clings to the life and people you once relied so heavily upon to reinforce your identity in your mind.”

“You're right … painfully right. A piece of my identity is back there, with her.”

“Not truly your identity. A mask.”

“Yes.”

Will rubbed a hand over his face, tucking emotion back behind his eyelids.

“I'm not sure who I am anymore.” He added, his voice choked and trembling, “Who I am according to myself, not the people around me.”

“You absorb other people's emotions and personalities like a sponge. It will never be simple for you to separate that empathy from your own identity. But, Will, I know who you are. If you doubt yourself, you don't have to doubt me.”

Will lifted his gaze to Hannibal's reassuring expression. His mouth tilted in a trembling smile, relieved only by the confidence in Hannibal's voice rather than the claim he was making.

“Will, perhaps you should focus on what is you want, rather than what you are.” Hannibal said, reaching out to grasp Will's hand, “I think you will find it a much easier task.”

“I know what I want.” Will said, scraping out a rough chuckle, “But what I want isn't always the right thing.”

“It is if it will stabilize your mental well being.”

Will's gaze caught on the window, and the sky turning to dusk beyond. He shook his head.

“We're all alone out here. No one to judge. No one to be accountable to.”

“Yes. You could follow all of the instincts you never allowed yourself to indulge in before, and the consequences would be nil.” Hannibal said.

“In this present moment. What about the future?”

“The future is what we make it. Each choice we make changes what will happen a minute, an hour, a day, a year from now. You must think about where you want to be, and make your decisions based on that, not on the opinions of people who may not care about you in a year's time.”

“You will.”

“Yes. I will always care about you.”

Will pursed his lips over a tremble. Leaning into Hannibal's arms, Will buried his face into the warmth of Hannibal's neck. Hannibal's arms wound around him, strong and secure.

“You are at crossroads.” Hannibal murmured, stroking the back of Will's head, “And I can't make the decision for you. You have to do it, all on your own.”

“I don't know how to move on.” Will whispered.

“When the time is right, I think the realization will come to you of it's own accord.” Hannibal said, “For now, enjoy this place, enjoy the anonymity.”

Will pulled back, dashing a tear stray tear from his cheek.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do.” Will lowered his head, adding much more quietly, “I said some terrible things to you the other night that I still haven't properly apologized for.”

“Hoping you'd broken my heart, is that what you mean?”

“Yes.” Will whispered, “It was rash, and stupid. And I didn't mean it.”

Hannibal's mouth tilted in a soft smile. He cradled Will's cheek, turning his head up so that their eyes could meet.

“I forgive you. And so that your mind can rest easy, I'll have you know that you haven't broken my heart … at least, not any more than I can bear.”

Will gave a sharp exhale of relief.

“Good.” He whispered.

Dotty found her way into the living room, and jumped up onto the couch, insinuating herself between Hannibal and Will. Hannibal cast the dog an annoyed glance before turning the TV back on. Will turned his attention to the dog, scratching behind her ears and speaking to her in low, loving tones.

“She shouldn't be on the couch.” Hannibal remarked.

“She won't hurt it.” Will said with smile. He pressed a kiss to Dotty's head, “You're a good girl, aren't you, sweetie?”

Hannibal shook his head, and turned his attention back to the TV.

“If you want my attention completely, all you have to do is ask for it.” He said.

Hannibal's gaze darted to Will's, briefly shocked before rearranging to indignation. “It's the couch I'm worried about. What if she urinates on it?”

“She won't pee on the couch; and you're not fooling me.”

Hannibal's frown deepened.

Will shifted Dotty off his lap, and sidled up next to Hannibal. He nuzzled his cheek against Hannibal's shoulder, and wrapped both arms around Hannibal's bicep.

“You bought me the dog to make me happy, but I know you hate her.” Will chuckled.

“I don't hate her.”

“You hate that I give her more attention than you sometimes.”

“She's an animal. How much attention does she need?”

“A lot.” Will murmured, “But apparently, you need more.”

Hannibal glanced down at him, lips drawn into a taut line, eyes dark with thinly veiled desire.

Will nuzzled against Hannibal's neck, pressing a row of soft kisses all the way up to the curve of his jaw. He paused there, breathing steady, hot breaths across Hannibal's earlobe and jaw.

“Just say the word.” Will whispered, “And I'm yours.”

Their eyes met, need and suggestion pulsing back and forth in the air between them. Hannibal's nostrils flared, drawing in a shallow breath as heat swarmed up his throat and cheeks. His hand rested in a trembling fist against his knee, fighting back desire for a scarce moment.

He turned, grasping Will's jaw and dragging him forward. Will gave a small gasp as Hannibal's mouth pressed over his, momentarily fierce before drawing back to a gentle caress. Will choked out a moan against the sweet, warm press of Hannibal's mouth. He grasped at Hannibal's chest, snagging on handfuls of shirt as all strength and logic left his body. He melted into a pool of trembling, aroused flesh as Hannibal grasped his face with both hands and kissed him with lavish, thorough caresses of lips and tongue. Will moaned, mouth falling open to the curve of Hannibal's tongue. It grazed along his upper lip in the first stroke, spiking heat through Will's belly. As the kiss surged harder against his mouth, Hannibal's tongue pressed past teeth to Will's own tongue and palate, claiming his mouth entirely.

Will gasped in a breath when Hannibal broke the kiss with an abrupt jolt. His hands trembled around Will's jaw, and his eyes stood wide and transfixed on Will's shocked, flushed expression. He pried his fingers away from Will's jaw, allowing his thumb to graze Will's lower lip just before his touch left Will's body entirely.

“You don't know how long I've wanted to do that for.” He said, his voice strangled and husky.

Will swallowed hard, tasting Hannibal's saliva on his tongue. He glanced away, his cheeks growing hot. He blinked against imagery that invaded his brain, a dozen different scenarios of what could have happened if they had continued kissing sprouting from the single point of throbbing need between his thighs.

“I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to do it … until now.” Will rasped.

“You encouraged me.” Hannibal said.

“I didn't know if you would actually ...”

“Tempt me again, and I may do more than kiss you.”

Will's gaze darted swiftly to Hannibal's, wide and blinking against the notion of more. He ached hotter under the advisement, need he clamped down for so long overwhelming in his moment of weakness.

“I'm sorry.” Will choked out.

“Do not apologize.” Hannibal said. He smiled, and reached out to soothe a stray curl falling across Will's forehead. “It was more lovely than I imagined it would be.”

Will gave a strangled laugh. “No, I … I'm not that good of a kisser.”

Hannibal's hand slid down to caress the corner of Will's mouth, smearing lingering saliva across his lower lip. “The taste alone is enough to warrant satisfaction.”

Will drew in a faltering breath. “Enough to warrant another?”

Hannibal gave a cryptic smile, and rose from the couch. He checked his watch.

“It's getting late.” He said.

“It's not your bedtime.” Will pointed out, “I know for a fact, you're up all hours of the night doing God knows what.”

“This is only a suggestion.” Hannibal said, “But I thought since you don't sleep well in your room with that window, you might consider sharing my bed.”

Will's eyes widened. “Sharing … What are you suggesting?”

“Nothing sexual of course. I thought you might allow me to hold you if you have a nightmare tonight.”

Will regarded Hannibal's casual expression warily.

“Hannibal Lecter wants to cuddle?”

“You can say no, of course.”

“I'm not saying 'no'. Are you recanting your offer?”

“Of course not.”

Will rose from the couch, catching onto Hannibal's hands before he could retreat.

“Then, to your bed it is.” He murmured, a chuckle spilling involuntarily past his lips.

Hannibal clutched Will's hips, holding him steady. The warmth of his hands seeped through Will's shirt and into his skin, plucking at the strings of his need. He bit back a sigh, and turned his face away so that Hannibal couldn't see the red color rising on his cheeks.

“I said it was nothing sexual.”

“Mm, right.”

“Come,” Hannibal said, guiding Will toward the stairs, “You look exhausted.”

Dotty barked, and darted after them, following at their heels all the way upstairs to the bedroom. Hannibal opened the door to the bedroom, admitting Will inside ahead of himself. He pressed the door shut before Dotty could slip in behind them.

Will glanced around the room, noting that hardly anything had changed since their arrival here. No personal touches, not even a turned back bedspread.

“Would you like some pajamas?” Hannibal asked, touching the dresser.

Will licked his lips, noticing his mouth was suddenly dry. A wave of fear, and then heat scorched down his spine as he gazed at the bed. All he could imagine was Hannibal lying between the sheets, sleepless and fraught with desire. Desire for him.

His fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt for a hesitant moment before he lifted the material over his head. He could feel the heat and intensity of Hannibal's gaze raking down his body as the shirt fell to the floor.

“Will.” Hannibal said, voice paper-thin and hoarse.

He stayed by the dresser, one hand clutched around the smooth edge. Will didn't look up – couldn't, for fear of losing his confidence.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, he thumbed the button of his jeans open. The zipper slid down with a hiss, loud in the taut silence of the bedroom. Will bent to wiggle out of the confining material, and Hannibal was across the room in three strides, hands strident around Will's waist.

“What are you doing?” He whispered.

“Getting undressed.” Will said, straightening to gaze at Hannibal over his shoulder, “I can't sleep in my jeans, can I?”

“I told you-”

“Nothing sexual, I know.” Will said, eyelashes beating demurely.

Hannibal sucked his lower lip for a moment, his pupils pulsing with unspoken desire. Will could feel the heat radiating from him, and feel the subtle but noticeable curve of growing arousal nudging against his lower back.

He kicked his jeans off his ankles, and turned in a slow circle to fall back against the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows as Hannibal gazed down at him with dark, smoldering eyes.

“I have no interest in taking advantage of you.” Hannibal said.

“I'm well aware of what's happening.”

“To an extent, you are perpetuating it.”

“You shouldn't have opened the door, if you didn't want to step through to the other side.”

“I can't put that kiss back into Pandora's box.”

“No, you can't.” Will murmured.

He stretched his toes out to touch Hannibal's thigh as Hannibal drew closer to the bed. His toes pressed against skin and muscle, noting the tremor that lay just beneath.

“You told me you weren't sure you wanted to kiss me.” Hannibal said.

“I was just afraid. It's funny how fear can distort what you want and what you don't want. It isn't until you face your fears that you realize there was nothing to be afraid of to begin with.”

Hannibal's gaze flitted downward as Will's toes worked higher up his thigh.

“On the contrary.” Hannibal said, his voice low and throaty, “You should be very afraid of me. You don't know what I can do to a boy a like you.”

Will flushed hard, a tremor working it's way through his chest and belly. He bit his lower lip, and lifted his chin to Hannibal's veiled threat.

“I can do things too.” He said.

His toes crawled a few inches higher, reaching for the bulge at the front of Hannibal's slacks. His toes curled around the material, dragging it tight across Hannibal's erection as he strained to find the hard flesh under the ball of his foot.

Hannibal grasped Will's ankle, yanking it away from his crotch with a harsh pull. Will bit back a gasp as Hannibal pulled his leg upright and parallel to his shoulder. Will fell back against the pillow, hands grasping at the sheets. His heart pounded like the dull roar of waterfall in the distance underneath the buzz of desire swarming through his veins.

Hannibal lowered his head, breaking his gaze from Will's just long enough to impart a gentle kiss against the inner bone of Will's ankle. The touch of his lips sparked like electricity against Will's skin, shooting down his leg and into his crotch. Desire pulled painfully tight, cock jumping against the fabric of his boxers, demanding release.

Will bit back a whine as Hannibal grasped his knee with the other hand, holding Will's leg still as he branded his skin with a series of hot, wet kisses down the inside of his calf. Just as he reached the upper curve of Will's calf, his lips curled back to release the sharp graze of his teeth against Will's skin. Will bucked, a breathless moan tearing from his throat. Hannibal's hand moved down Will's knee to grip the inside of his thigh, barely inches from Will's swelling cock. His teeth snared across the tender skin at the inside of Will's thigh, scraping gentle for a few intense moments before clamping down around flesh.

Will's hands locked around handfuls of the sheets, and his head snapped back against the pillow. Stinging pain and utter satisfaction exploded through his veins. The spot where Hannibal had bitten him throbbed with pain and tiny beads of blood as Hannibal continued on down Will's thigh. He sucked the tender flesh, leaving a pattern of bites and bruises down Will's thigh until he reached the edge of Will's boxers. He paused here, his breath blasting hot across the underside of Will's balls.

Will whimpered, and wiggled eagerly. He watched Hannibal through heavy lidded eyes, his brain fuzzy with desire and focused on release alone.

Hannibal turned his head up to greet Will's hungry gaze. His pupils stood wide with exhilaration, and a tiny spot of Will's blood shone bright on the center of his lower lip.

“Are you still certain?” He whispered.

Will swallowed hard, and nodded.

Hannibal prowled forward, thighs pushing between Will's legs and crowding Will up against the headboard. He bent to press a hot, possessive kiss against Will's mouth as he reached down to tug the clinging fabric back from Will's swollen cock. Will gasped into Hannibal's mouth, and clung to his shoulders. The moment the boxers were off his ankles, Will spread his legs around Hannibal's body, and urged his hips up against Hannibal, begging for a caress against his throbbing skin.

Hannibal's kiss broke off, leaving Will breathless and panting. Their eyes clashed for brief moments before Hannibal planted a hand around his throat. Choking, Will grabbed at the bed sheets. He didn't fight Hannibal's clutch as the possessive squeeze only served to press the blood faster and hotter into his dick.

Will watched with heavy, watering eyes as Hannibal turned his gaze to Will's trembling hips, and his cock blossoming from between his bitten thighs. The head pulsed exquisite red and eager liquid clinging to the small orifice, the most consent Will could offer without spilling release across his trembling belly.

Hannibal's tongue swiped across his lower lip. He took Will's cock in his hand, fingers wrapping slow and gentle around the shaft. Will gave a hoarse moan against Hannibal's hand on his throat. His hips jerked up against the soft caress, skin sizzling and all but bursting into flame with wild need.

Hannibal noted Will's writhing and moaning, but the steady stroke of his hand did not vary. He smoothed his hand up the shaft, fist swallowing the leaking head, before sliding back down again and stretching the flesh across stiff veins in the process.

“P-please ...” Will managed.

Hannibal's hand clamped tighter, squeezing breath and sound from Will's throat.

The vision of Hannibal above him blurred, black hedging at the edges of his vision. He couldn't breathe, and yet, he didn't care to focus on anything but the pleasure throbbing at the center of his body.

Hannibal's hand jerked into a faster pace, rough but efficient. The pleasure lurking at the edges of his mind lunged forward, drawing his core achingly tight. His hips lurched up against Hannibal's caress.

His body moved now of it's own accord, detached from logic and purpose. He was driven solely by the pull of pleasure throbbing through his cock, and the practiced caress of Hannibal's hand. His vision swam, blind to their surroundings. Without breath, without sight, without sound except for his own shallow, excited panting, all he could focus on was the orgasm rising to it's apex inside him.

Just as the black began to overtake his vision, Hannibal's hand withdrew. Will gasped, his eyes flying open wide. Breath surged into his lungs, blood into his brain. His vision flashed white with the sudden tide of breath and sight while his brain tilted, light-headed and pumping with the gush of blood supply.

The revelation of breath lasted mere seconds, as his distracted body was hit by orgasm. His body drew tight and stiff before launching into a series of uncontrollable spasms. His hips rocked jaggedly against Hannibal's hand, aiding the rush of release to the tip of his aching cock. His back arched, head thrown back against the pillow, mouth stretched open in a scream that couldn't quite find the surface. Pleasure unlike anything he had experienced in far too long exploded through him, from his core to the the tips of his fingers and toes.

He trembled in the aftermath for long seconds before collapsing against the pillow. Slowly opening his eyes, he looked up to see Hannibal smiling down at him. Hannibal's hand slid away from his cock, and rose in the air between them. Hannibal gazed at the milky liquid coating his fingers, head tilted in fascination in satisfaction.

Will sucked in a breath as Hannibal brought the wet fingertips to his mouth. He licked Will's release from each finger in lavish swipes of his tongue, swallowing it eager gulps and smacks of his lips.

Will's mouth drifted open, both shocked and aroused by the display.

When Hannibal finished cleaning his hand, he bent down to lick the moisture trickling across Will's belly in abundant drops. Will bit back a whimper. A spark of arousal flickered in his already sated body.

Hannibal lifted his head, licking his lips one last time before bending down to kiss Will's mouth. Will tasted his own release on Hannibal's mouth, but didn't have time to be disgusted or pleased. Hannibal was touching him again, hand stroking across Will's nipple, down his side, and across his hip.

Will moaned, and pulled his mouth away from Hannibal's. He stroked eager hands across Hannibal's chest, eyes catching on the obscene tent of his trousers. Hannibal's eyes brimmed with desire as Will's hand smoothed down his chest and belly to touch tentatively against the swell of his cock.

Hannibal uttered a quiet sound of pleasure, and urged his hips against Will's hand.

Will's heart pounded as he unzipped Hannibal's pants with trembling hands. The fabric parted from the hard rise of his cock, apparent through the taut cling of his boxers. Will tugged on the pants, bringing them down Hannibal's thighs. Hannibal kicked them rest of the way off, breaking seams in his eagerness to remove the last barriers between them.

Will paused, hand hovering over the waistband of Hannibal's boxers. Fresh heat curled up his throat and cheeks as he imagined touching Hannibal the way Hannibal had done to him.

Hannibal touched Will's cheek, sensing his hesitancy.

“I'm not as experienced as you are.” Will murmured.

“Passion will make up for inexperience.” Hannibal said.

He guided Will's hand to his cock, pressing the curve of the throbbing shaft into Will's palm. Will drew in a shallow breath, and swallowed convulsively against his bone dry throat. His fingers curled around Hannibal's cock against the fabric of his boxers, mapping out the length and thickness with a fumbling, yet eager hand. Hannibal moaned in response, his eyes fluttering shut and his hips tilting forward.

Will abandoned the caress, and hooked his fingers under the elastic waistband of Hannibal's boxers. With one swift pull, he brought them down around Hannibal's knees and released Hannibal's cock to throb freely in the space between them. Will hesitated for a brief second before reclaiming his grasp, this time against naked flesh. Hannibal's cock rested thick and hot against his palm, veins throbbing and purple with mounting desire. He was uncut, throbbing head peeking just past foreskin and dripping pre-cum.

Will licked his lips, and curled his fist tighter around the shaft. Dragging his hand up, he stroked against the tip and back down again, stretching back foreskin in a long, agonizing stroke. Hannibal moaned louder, body clenching. His trembling arms struggled to support him over Will as he allowed himself to fully realize the need he had been suppressing for too long.

“Will ...”

Will's gaze darted up to Hannibal's flushed expression of need as the weak moan slipped past his lips. Hannibal's hips surged against the downward stroke of Will's hand, eager and desperate for release.

Will's blood pounded through the dome of his skull, hollow like the roll of bass drums. He had never heard Hannibal sound so desperate; he was at Will's mercy, his pleasure in the palm of Will's hand.

Will eased his caress to a motionless grasp, and pressed his other hand against the middle of Hannibal's chest. Hannibal's eyes opened at the sudden loss of pleasure, a strangled moan reaching past his lips just before Will pushed him onto his back across the bed spread. Hannibal's hands sought across the sheets for support as Will dove down between his legs, guiding the tip of Hannibal's cock to his mouth.

“Will!”

Hannibal's strangled cry filled the charged air around them as Will's mouth sank down on his cock. One hand tangled in Will's curls, and the other wrapped around a handful of the sheets. His back arched from the bed, hips pulsing in sensitive, eager bursts against Will's mouth.

Will wrapped one hand around the base of Hannibal's cock, jerking at the shaft while his mouth pleasured the tip. His tongue wrapped around the head, and lapped against foreskin, seeking in to find the tender skin leaking pre-cum just beneath. Hannibal's thighs trembled on either side of Will's body, clamping around him in one moment, and falling loose in the next as pleasure melted his strength to nothing.

“Will … oh, Will ...”

Will closed his eyes, breathed through his nose, suckled down harder, listened to the rise and fall of Hannibal's voice above him. His focus drew sharp on wringing the pleasure from Hannibal's body, all else fading away except for the taste and texture of cock against the back of his mouth and the musky smell of pleasure burning like incense from Hannibal's skin.

Saliva poured past Will's lips and down Hannibal's cock as he suckled faster and harder, drawing the pleasure from Hannibal's taut, trembling body in effective pulls. Hannibal shuddered, hand pulling hard at Will's curls, going silent except for shallow, eager breaths. His hips drew stiff against Will's mouth, clamping taut for long, agonizing moments before the pleasure rose to the point of completion inside him.

His hips jarred against Will's face, pleasure taking control of his body. Spasms rippled through his belly and into his limbs, pleasure burning hot in his chest. Bucking against Will's mouth, he gushed hot, fervent release onto the waiting stroke of Will's tongue. Will's mouth worked around him, swallowing back spurts of release and sucking more from Hannibal's willing, trembling body. He didn't stop until he had drained every lost drop Hannibal could give, and Hannibal was twisting away from the caress of Will's mouth against his sensitized flesh, one hand pushing Will's face away from him.

Will drew back, wiping excess saliva and release from his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes shone bright, a pink flush full across his cheeks. Hannibal pushed himself upright, expression blank except for shocked pleasure.

“I told you,” Will murmured, his voice raw and throaty, “I can do things, too.”

Hannibal regarded him in silence for a few long moments before letting a smile stretch across his lips. “I shouldn't have underestimated you.”

Will laughed. “I thought you had learned not to underestimate me a long time ago.”

“Murder and manipulation are a far cry from sex.” Hannibal said, “You said yourself you weren't experienced.”

“It's been a long time since I sucked cock.” Will said, lying down against the pillows. He folded his hands behind his head and smiled smugly at the ceiling, “I suppose it's just like riding a bicycle, as they say.”

Hannibal crawled across the bed to where Will lay, and dropped down next to him. He put a gentle hand on Will's arm, and bent to press a kiss against his shoulder.

“Just when I think I understand you completely, you shake the foundation of my beliefs about you all over again.” He murmured.

“Do you think we should have done this before?” Will asked, turning his neck into Hannibal's kisses, “I mean, maybe we wouldn't have been so frustrated with each other if we had released it in a healthy, normal way.”

“Are you attributing trying to kill each other to sexual frustration?” Hannibal asked, a chuckle vibrating through his kisses.

Will shrugged. “I can attribute it to the last month of frustration with each other.”

“I see your perspective.” Hannibal said, “But we can't change the past. There's no use in wondering what would have happened if we had decided to engage in sexual relations with each other years ago. We can only appreciate the beauty of the now.”

“Mm, you're right.” Will said.

He closed his eyes as Hannibal's mouth pressed warm and wet against the base of his skull and behind his ear. This post-coital embrace seemed so familiar and natural. Contrived reasons for not doing this and frustration from pent up need were burned away in the fire of pleasure, leaving only the baser instincts. If this had always meant to be, Will couldn't help but mourn the years he had spent rejecting the thought that he could ever love the man beside him.

It was the like those butterflies Hannibal had kept a child. Their transformation is slow and agonizing, long stages of growth and confinement, before the creature emerges, a beautiful product of natural evolution and patience. They could spread their wings and fly now, daring to face the sun and live a longer life than the the last, brief stage of the butterfly.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

In the early light of day, Will slipped out of Hannibal's embrace and crept from the bedroom. The chalet was utterly quiet in the pale morning, last rays of moonlight streaming pewter through the yawning windows at the front of the house. The clock read five a.m.

Will took a brief shower, and dressed in jeans, a wool sweater, and boots to face the cold weather. While he waited for coffee to brew, he scribbled out a short note for Hannibal. He tapped the pencil against the slip of paper, and chewed his lower lip.

 

_Hannibal,_

_I know what I have to do. I'll be back soon._

_Love, Will_

 

Perhaps it was too short, but Will couldn't risk explaining fully what he planned to do this morning. He didn't want Hannibal to come after him in an attempt to stop him. Will had to do this; he could only hope that once he explained what he'd done, Hannibal would understand.

With a thermos of coffee in hand, Will put on his parka and stepped outside onto the freshly fallen snow. He stepped into the Land Rover, and started the engine. Casting one last glance at the sleeping chalet, he pulled out of the front drive and started the long descent to the city below.

 

~

 

Hannibal jarred awake, disoriented as to what had pulled him from his deep sleep. Sunlight poured through the window, reflecting blinding light off the snow outside. A quick glance at the clock told him he'd overslept; a hand across the bedspread told him that he was alone.

Hannibal sat up, ignoring the dizzying rush of blood to his brain, and searched the room for Will. He was alone.

Frowning, Hannibal rose from the bed, threw a robe around his shoulders, and stepped out into the hallway. Dotty burst out of Will's room, scrambling down the hallway to greet Hannibal with an energetic yip and a wet tongue against his hand.

“Where's Will?” Hannibal asked, kneeling down to stroke the dog's head, “Did he feed you?”

Dotty answered with a low bark, and continued nuzzling at his hand.

Hannibal rose to his feet, and started down to the stairs to the lower level. He called for Dotty to follow him as increasing concern rose inside him.

When he reached the first floor, he saw Dotty's food and water dishes sitting empty by the door. He bent to see if they had been used, but they appeared to be as clean as Will had left them last night. Hannibal opened the food bag and portioned out Dotty's normal morning meal. She darted straight to the bowl, shoving her nose into the food.

Dotty's hunger was a red flag. Will didn't let his pet go hungry; in fact, he probably fed the dog too much.

Hannibal marched through the living room and into the kitchen as worry blossomed in his chest. He stopped short when his gaze caught on the used coffee maker and the piece of paper and pencil sitting on the kitchen counter.

Hannibal snatched up the note and read the brief message through three times before pausing to consider what it meant.

They'd spent the better part of the past few days discussing Will's need to move on from the past. After last night, Hannibal thought they'd put all worries behind him. Will had been so receptive of his attentions, so eager to please, so soft and responsive, his body twisting and turning to Hannibal's every whim …

Hannibal closed his eyes, and leaned against the counter to draw in a steadying breath. The conflict between worry and steamy memories of the night before sucked the breath out of his lungs, the strength from his limbs. Part of him feared the foothold he'd managed to gain after all these years would slip away, while the other part was brazenly confident that Will would never be able to leave him again after what they'd shared.

Despite no real intercourse or penetration, Hannibal felt himself to be bound to Will by religious experience of their shared pleasure. Touching each other after so long was enough to bring him to his knees before Will, to solidify his faith and worship.

Last night, he'd fallen asleep certain that they would reach the next stage of sexual discovery at some point in the near future. Waking up alone and seeing this note shook that faith to it's core.

The note said Will would be back soon. It didn't say where he'd gone, or what he was doing. All Hannibal could do was wait and worry.

 

~

 

Hannibal spent the better part of the morning looking out the window with a forlorn gaze, hoping that every time he pulled the curtains back, he would see Will returning. Twice, he put on boots and coat with every intention of going out to look for Will. Both times, he put the outerwear back on the rack, knowing the chances of finding Will were slim to none. He might not even be in the city below for all Hannibal knew. He could be miles away by now, out of Hannibal's reach.

He watched TV and tried to read, but couldn't focus his attention on either. Doubt and feared gnawed in his belly, undermining the growth of faith he'd had in his relationship to Will over the course of the previous evening.

The note could be a decoy, he reasoned. Perhaps Will was afraid of the sudden change in their relationship. Maybe Hannibal had pushed too far. Maybe he was leaving for good, and the note was meant to keep Hannibal from going after him.

These fears debilitated him to the point of forming a strangled lump of emotion in his throat. Dotty, sensing his concern, jumped up on the couch next to him in an attempt to comfort him. In a burst of anger, Hannibal pushed her away and jumped up from the couch.

He paced the length of the living room and kitchen, scraping a hand through his hair and pushing back the pathetic emotion. If Will left, it was his choice. Hannibal had promised that he wouldn't keep Will here like a prisoner. He had to keep that promise, because no matter how much he hated to admit it, Will was more important to him than anything else in the world. The love he felt for Will was beyond words or comparison, and he knew love like that would be crushed into something dreadful if Will were forced to stay here.

He had to let Will go, let him fly. Perhaps Will had transformed into something better and more beautiful than Hannibal could imagine or fully appreciate. Perhaps Will was too good and pure for him to consider touching.

Trembling with anxiety and despair, Hannibal marched upstairs to the pool room. He stripped out of his clothing, and took a running dive into the water. He surged across the pool in long, smooth strokes, performing a dozen laps before stopping at one end to breathe.

The pent-up energy rattled through his limbs even as he panted in exhaustion. Chlorine burned his eyes and the insides of his nostrils, melding with the sting of emotion pulsing just behind his eyelids. Ignoring the burn in his muscles, he pushed off the edge of the pool and swam through a dozen more laps. He focused his mind away from Will and into the motions of his limbs through the water, pushing himself to the fastest speed he could manage.

Stroke, breath, stroke, breath, flip and swim to the other end. Stroke, breath, stroke, breath, cling to the edge and try to breathe. Stroke, breath, stroke, breath, tread water just trying to stay afloat.

He swam until his lungs and muscles burned, and he couldn't draw one more stroke out of his tired limbs. He dragged himself from the pool, snatched a towel from the rack, and slipped into the sauna in the adjacent room.

Lying down on one of the benches, he closed his eyes and relaxed under the hot, steamy embrace of the sauna. Even the relaxing heat of the sauna couldn't dull the worry and fear gripping his mind, but it could numb his body from feeling the weight of it.

He stayed in the sauna until he felt light-headed and his limbs had the strength of wet noodles. Dragging himself from the confines of the sauna, he took a cool shower until his body could move properly again.

When he got out of the shower, he walked down the hall to where Will's bedroom door stood half open. Slipping inside, he scanned the room, taking in the personal touches, the turned back bedsheets, and the clothes lying scattered across the floor.

The two jewelry boxes sat on top of the dresser, both open to display Hannibal's gifts. Hannibal ran a fingertip across the face of the watch, recalling how beautiful it looked on Will's wrist. And the necklace with it's pretty red pendant that rested perfectly between Will's collarbones. Would he ever see these gifts against Will's soft, pale skin again?

Hannibal sat down on the edge of Will's bed and gazed out at the looming abyss below them. For the first time since laying eyes on the magnificent view, he saw the gaping emptiness below them how he imagined Will saw it – a yawning chasm threatening to rise up and swallow him into darkness.

 

~

The chalet was dark except for one light on the lower level when the Land Rover rolled into the driveway. The sun had just sank below the tree line, casting the isolated house in darkness.

Will parked, and leaned his head back against the seat with a low sigh. The weight that had rested on his chest since their arrival here was gone; he'd done what he had to do. His only fear now was what Hannibal's reaction might be once Will explained where he'd been.

Will stepped out of the Land Rover, and took the porch steps up to the front door. Drawing in a deep breath, he pulled the door open and stepped into the chalet. The house was quiet except for the distant, muffled voice coming from the TV.

Shedding his parka and boots, Will walked down the hallway to the entryway of the living room. He peeked around the corner to see Hannibal sitting on the couch, watching the TV with a disinterested gaze. The only light on was a small lamp by the couch that cast sparse, yellow illumination on Hannibal's sharp features. His eyes were shaded dark and hollow in shadow; even from this distance and in darkness, Will could see that he was unhappy.

“Hannibal.” He said, softly.

Hannibal looked up sharply, his eyes widening when he saw Will.

“Will.”

He rose from the couch and strode across the living room. For a moment, Will thought he might open his arms for an embrace, but as he drew closer, the anger became clear in his eyes.

“Where were you?” Hannibal asked, his voice low and controlled.

“Did you see my note?” Will asked.

“I did. It wasn't very helpful.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to come after me. I had to do something.”

“And what was that?”

Will drew in a deep breath. “Promise me you won't freak out.”

“Your saying that suggests you did something to make me upset.”

Will lowered his head to avoid the scathing burn of Hannibal's gaze. “It might.”

“I've been waiting here for you all day, worrying about where you'd gone, or what could have befallen you.” Hannibal said, tersely, “It would be rude of you if you kept your purpose for disappearing from me.”

“I called Molly.” Will blurted, wincing the moment the words were in the air.

Silence settled across the room, but the air crackled with palpable tension. Hannibal shifted, his hands drawing into fists at his sides.

“Why?”

Will swallowed hard. “Please, don't be mad. I made sure that the call couldn't be traced. I drove all the way to the next town, and bought a disposable cell phone that I destroyed as soon as I finished making the call. There's no possibility that it could be traced back to-”

“You think that's why I'm upset with you?” Hannibal asked, “Because you made a risky choice?”

“Maybe.” Will whispered.

“Perhaps what happened between us last night would be trivial to someone else, but it's not to me. Every act, every choice has significance. The moment you bring someone else into your intimate space and show them your vulnerabilities, you create an impression and a bond that will last forever. Will, I asked you to come into my private space. I showed you a side of myself that I don't give away to just anyone. Now, I wake up to find that you are gone, and all you've left a short, vague note telling me that you will be back 'soon.' Soon is subjective, Will. It could mean in a few hours, or a few days. It could mean in a few months. I had no way of knowing when you would be back – if ever.”

“I'm sorry I wasn't clearer.” Will whispered.

“You're sorry you weren't clearer?”

“Yes.”

Hannibal turned and paced away, pressing a hand to his forehead.

“What do you want me to say?” Will asked, “Just tell me, and I'll say it.”

“Why did you call her?” Hannibal asked, spinning around to face him, “Let's start there.”

“I wanted to tell her I wasn't dead or injured or being held against my will.” Will said, “I just wanted her to know so she can move on with her life.”

“Is that all you told her?”

Will's expression twisted in disbelief. “What do you mean by that? Are you asking me if I told her I still love her? Is that what you think?”

“Is it true?”

“I cannot fucking believe-”

“You told me you felt guilty for leaving her.” Hannibal said, marching toward Will with a finger pointed at his chest, “You told me you couldn't let go. You're still wearing your ring and-”

“I'll always love her.” Will shouted, “She was my wife, you selfish son of bitch. She was my wife before you came in and tried to have her killed. I loved her when I didn't think anyone could accept me the way I was. When I didn't think I could recover from _you!_ ”

Silence settled like a weighted blanket across the room, tension and anger boiling between them.

“So, did you?” Hannibal whispered, “Did you tell her that you love her?”

Will clenched his jaw against a wave of tears. “Yes.”

Hannibal lifted his jaw, swallowing against the sheen of tears rising his eyes. He gave a short nod. “Good. I'm glad you were honest with me.”

“I can't just forget those three years happened, Hannibal.” Will whispered, “I can't forget how she made me feel just because it's over.”

“You still love her. It's not over.” Hannibal said, “But we are. I think you should leave.”

The words rocked through Will's chest like a knife tearing him open. Tears rushed hot and heavy to his eyelids, darting past the desperate coping of his blinking eyes and down his cheeks.

“What … What do you mean?”

“If you can't let go of her after I gave everything to you, I think it would be best if we parted ways.”

“I have nowhere to go.” Will whispered, “Where am I supposed to go, Hannibal?”

“I'll arrange for you to have a place to go, make sure you are secure financially and-”

“I don't have a say in this?” Will demanded, “This is my life, Hannibal. You can't just sabotage it because your fragile little feelings are hurt.”

“This isn't about my feelings.” Hannibal said, “This is about yours, and your inability to be honest with me.”

“I was honest with you. Hannibal, I'm being honest with you right now. I'm telling you how I feel about Molly because I know if I lied to you, you would know. I'm telling you so that we can move on!”

“How can we move on? How do you expect us to live here with one another, pretending to be happy, when I know that you still have feelings for her?”

“Just because I still love her doesn't mean I want to be with her.”

“There is an obvious conflict in what you are saying, Will. If you still love someone else, you cannot fully love me. You cannot give all of yourself to me because you are holding back part of yourself for her – a woman you will never see again.”

“Hannibal, please-”

Will's plea broke off as Hannibal turned his back and marched across the living room to the stairs.

“Hannibal, wait. Would you listen to what I'm trying to tell you?”

Will rushed after him, mounting the stairs four steps behind Hannibal. They climbed the second level, and Will stumbled on the steps, barely catching Hannibal's arm in the hallway.

“Hannibal, stop.”

Hannibal spun around, pulling his arm free of Will's grip.

“You don't have to leave tonight.” Hannibal said, his voice stiff and emotionless, “But I'll have everything arranged so that you can be gone by tomorrow.”

“You can't just kick me out.”

“I am the primary owner of this place. I paid for it, I secured it. It is mine, and I will remove you if I see the need. And I do see the need.”

Will took a step back, tears rising to choke his throat. The vision of Hannibal's angry visage swam before him, clearing only when the tears spilled down his cheeks.

“I was doing it for us; that's what I'm trying to say.” Will whispered, “Don't you get it?”

“How do you expect me to understand?” Hannibal asked, “How can I understand what you did was for us when you disappeared without telling me to call your wife?”

“I was trying to move on.” Will said, his voice dwindling into a whimper, “For us.”

“But you haven't moved on. You haven't let her go. You still love her.”

“But … but I love you more.”

Hannibal paused, vulnerability shining briefly in his eyes before the coldness returned, like a curtain closing off Will's gaze. He turned to resume his solemn march down the hallway, his shoulders held back taut.

Will felt a rush of anger like a cold draft surging through his chest. Icy determination flooded his veins. He broke away from the wall, marching after Hannibal to catch him by the arm.

“Did you hear a word I said?” Will shouted, shoving Hannibal against the wall, “I told you that I love you, and all you hear is Molly, you self-absorbed bastard. I love you, don't you fucking get it?”

Hannibal pushed off the wall, anger flaring hotter in his eyes. Will shoved him again, hard against the chest with the flat of his hands, throwing Hannibal back against the wall with a grunt.

“I didn't call her to tell her I loved her!” Will cried, knuckles bouncing off Hannibal's chest with each word, “I called her to tell her that I love you, you insufferable, pig-headed, stubborn, selfish-”

Will's tirade came to abrupt halt as Hannibal slapped his hands down, grabbed him by the face, and smashed his mouth hard against Will's. Their lips and teeth collided, drawing blood and a surge of saliva and tongue. Hannibal's hands grasped Will's jaw in a crushing grip, holding Will's head still as his body continued to flail against the Hannibal's. Will struggled, pressing angry moans into the kiss and slamming his hands into Hannibal's chest and ribs in an attempt to free himself.

Hannibal shifted one hand down around Will's throat, clamping tight and forcing Will down below him. Blind with anger and frustration, Will pummeled his fist into Hannibal's side as Hannibal maneuvered him to the ground.

Hannibal took them to the ground, pinning Will on his back against the carpet with a hand around his throat. He straddled Will's bucking hips, absorbing each blow against his ribs with a grunt and harder kiss to Will's lips. His lips pried Will's open, pressing tongue past snaring teeth to claim Will's mouth with domineering strokes. He took each snap of Will's teeth with a quiet grunt, his hand flexing tight around Will's throat.

When Hannibal relented for brief seconds, Will followed after his lips, still biting and growling at Hannibal's skin in attempt to draw blood. Catching Will's flailing wrists, Hannibal let his whole weight come to rest on Will's bucking hips so that all that Will could move only his legs.

“Get off me.” Will growled, twisting and bucking against Hannibal's weight.

“Stop.” Hannibal said, softly. “Will, stop.”  
Will's struggling eased until he was lying still against the carpet, face flushed bright pink and moist with sweat.

“I did it for you.” Will panted, “I went out there and called her, knowing full well that it was dangerous. I risked it because I wanted to let go of her. Because I knew I couldn't go on for the rest of my life knowing she was still out there, worrying about me, wondering where I had gone to.”

Hannibal lowered his head, “I know.”

“The fuck you know.” Will growled, “You never had to let go of anyone for me. You don't know what it's like you tear yourself in half because your past can't join together with your present. You don't know. I told her, I told her I had to let her go. I told her I still loved her, but I fucking love you more, you arrogant, stubborn asshole.”

Hannibal let out a low sigh. “Perhaps I overreacted.”

“Perhaps?” Will hissed, lifting his head from the carpet, “ _Perhaps_? I broke her heart for you. And you _might_ have overreacted?”

“I'm sorry, Will.” Hannibal said, meeting Will's gaze with wide, penitent eyes.

“Get off of me.”

Hannibal hesitated.

“I said, get the fuck off me.”

Hannibal released Will's wrists, and slid off on him, coming to rest against the wall. Will sat up, rubbing his wrist where Hannibal's hand had squeezed too tightly.

“I hope you've changed your mind about kicking me out.”

Hannibal gave a slow nod.

Will rose from the ground, straightening his shirt with a yank.

“Sometimes I don't know why I love you.” He said, glaring down at Hannibal, “Then other times, like last night, I don't know how I couldn't love you. There's no in between with you, is there?”

Hannibal rose from the ground, lifting his chin and rearranging his dignity.

“You've known that for some time now.” He said, “If you can't bring yourself to accept it, my offer to provide another living arrangement for you is still open.”

“I'm not going anywhere.” Will said, crossing his arms, “After everything we've gone through, I'm staying right here. Until death or whatever else tears us apart.”

“That sounds like a vow.”

“We're living here like a couple. We're fighting like we're married. We might as well be.” Will groused, scraping a rough hand through his hair.

“If so, we can continue to share a bed like a couple.” Hannibal suggested, softly.

Will let out a weary sigh, the last of his anger melting away. “I'd like that.”

 

~

 

The only sound in the darkness of the room was Hannibal's steady breathing, and from the lower level of the chalet, a clock ticking away the hours to midnight.

Will rolled over for what seemed like the hundredth time. He pressed his eyes shut, but sleep evaded him long after he and Hannibal climbed under the sheets. Though adrenaline roused during their fight had faded from his veins, his mind continued to turn with the uncomfortable realization that this relationship wouldn't be as simple has it had seemed when they were bringing each other to orgasm the night before.

Pleasure has a way of blinding one to the flaws in another person. Will knew all the psychology and biology behind that damning truth, yet he couldn't help the surge of disappointment he felt knowing that fights like the one they'd just had could become a regularity if not addressed. Dread curled through Will's stomach at the thought of addressing the flaws between them. It was always so much easier to ignore the faults and revel in the best of what Hannibal had to offer him.

Will rolled over again, and kicked off the sheets with a frustrated sigh. Worrying overheated him; overheating made it hard for him to sleep. It was a vicious cycle he was all too familiar with.

Will startled when he felt a cool hand touch his back.

“Are you all right?” Hannibal whispered.

Will turned onto his back to meet Hannibal's gaze through the darkness.

“I thought you were asleep.” He said.

“I was. I heard you tossing.”

“Sorry to wake you.”

“It's quite all right. What's troubling you?”

“Everything.”

“They say the first fight in a relationship is always the worst.” Hannibal remarked, “Perhaps they're right. I can still feel the nauseating affect of dread and anger.”

“How can you sleep, feeling like that? I certainly can't.”

“I do my best to compartmentalize, disconnecting the worry from the parts of my brain that require silence to sleep.”

“I can't just turn off my feelings.”

“It was a tactic I learned from a young age.” Hannibal said, “During my time at the orphanage, I had no outlet for the emotions of loss and anger that I was experiencing. As a result, I was constantly bombarded by fears and feelings of sorrow and rage. To sleep, I had to find a way to quiet them.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“I don't often think about those times. There are better, brighter experiences that I choose to revisit should I take a trip down memory lane.”

“Ones with Mischa?”

Hannibal uttered a quiet sigh into the dark silence of the bedroom. “Yes.”

Will chewed his lower lip as he rolled around the worries in his brain.

“I'm afraid we're creating bad experiences instead of bright ones.” Will said, at last.

“Mm, I certainly won't be revisiting today's experiences any time soon.” Hannibal murmured.

“It was painful for me too, but I had to do it.”

“Yes, I understand now.”

“I'm sorry I left you here without telling you where I was going.” Will said, reaching out to touch Hannibal's chest, “I was just afraid of what you would do if I told you the truth.”

“You should have been truthful … And I should be more magnanimous.”

“Maybe if we start there, we won't create anymore bad experiences like today.”

“There's bound to be pitfalls and misunderstandings in any relationship.” Hannibal said, “But, I think being honest with each other would go a long way.”

“It's a bad habit of ours – not being honest with each other.”

“So is exercising revenge when we should have exercised a bit of mercy.”

“I'm sorry I called you a self-absorbed bastard.”

Hannibal chuckled, bringing Will's hand to his mouth. He kissed the knuckles softly.

“Perhaps you were half right.” He murmured into Will's skin.

“I called you pig-headed, and an asshole.”

“I said you might have been _half_ right.”

Will laughed, relief filling his chest with buoyant warmth that drove the concrete weight of dread away.

“I regret threatening to kick you out.” Hannibal murmured, “I don't know what I would do here, alone without you.”

“You couldn't survive one day with me gone, much less another five months … or forever.”

“It's true.”

Hannibal snagged a hand on Will's hip, and pulled Will across to bed to his chest. Lacing his fingers into Will's curls, he tugged Will's head back to impart a gentle kiss to his mouth. Will grasped Hannibal's chest, sinking his fingers through patches of hair and into his skin as the kiss deepened into an exchange of tongue and saliva.

Hannibal drew back just as Will's breath shortened into eager hiccups.

“It's true.” He repeated, stroking his thumb across Will's cheek, “I need you, more than anything.”

Will swallowed hard, searching for a reply to match the devotion in Hannibal's voice. He pressed his body harder against Hannibal's and stretched his chin up for another kiss, offering his flesh as evidence of his own need.

Hannibal dragged Will's head closer, slanting his mouth over Will's in deep kiss that rumbled with a needy moan. His hand quested down Will's chest, thumbing at one nipple until it stood hard and aching, and Will arched in burning pleasure. He moved down Will's ribs, feeling each rib and the expansion of his lungs beneath. Clutching Will's hip, he pressed Will back against the sheets and rose over him with their lips still clinging to each other.

Will gasped into Hannibal's mouth as one hand surrounded his cock, drawing it to full attention in a matter of moments. His cock throbbed and ached against Hannibal's deft stroking, hips rocking up against the insufficient motion in bodily plea for more. Need screamed through his brain, all else melting away under the consuming heat of desire.

Hannibal's mouth broke away from Will's, allowing the building moans to spill past Will's lips. He knelt over Will, turning his hips down against Will's to find the hard swell of Will's cock with his own. Their flesh met, throbbing veins and stretched, tender skin grazing.

“Oh my god.” Will moaned.

He arched up against Hannibal, driving the tip of his cock into Hannibal's belly and the shaft alongside Hannibal's throbbing cock. Hannibal's hand slipped between them, wrapping around both of their cocks and taking a long, slow drag down the shafts. Will gave an explosive moan and grabbed at the sheets, his body jolting with an aching spasm of pleasure as their cocks rubbed against one another in the strong clutch of Hannibal's hand.

“Hannibal.” Will moaned.

He found Hannibal's eyes through the darkness and latched on, pressing a plea through his gaze as his voice held no other use but moaning.

Hannibal bent, pressing a hot kiss against Will's trembling lips. His fist worked between them, swallowing cock heads together against his palm and dragging back down in a tormenting caress. He silenced Will's desperate moans with a long, slow kiss, pressing his tongue down against Will's and biting at his lower lip at the end of every stroke. Will could do little else but tremble beneath him, body clenched and waiting for pleasure that waited at the edges of his mind.

Will moaned, hips jarring up after Hannibal's as Hannibal released their cocks. His skin was left bare and aching, tingling with pleasure that dangled just beyond his reach. He could feel himself leaking he was so hard, his balls drawn tight and ready to burst with a simple touch. But he didn't dare give himself that touch. Hannibal would make him come when he saw fit, and it would be much better than if Will stroked himself off.

He waited, panting and on the verge of desperation as Hannibal knelt over him, leisurely stroking himself with a loose hand. Will bit at his lips as he watched Hannibal's grip stretch back foreskin from the swollen, weeping head, fascinated by the movement and elasticity of the flesh.

He reached out a trembling hand, but Hannibal caught his wrist. Their eyes met, Hannibal shining with satisfaction, Will's with need.

“Wait.” Hannibal whispered, pressing Will's wrist into the sheets, “Wait, or you won't come at all.”

Will swallowed back a moan. The threat only made his cock jump harder.

Hannibal shifted to his side on the sheets, and pulled Will to face him. He grabbed Will's cock, his grasp firm, but gentle as brought Will's cock head against his own. Will whimpered as their to two leaking tips met, sliding slickly against one another and sparking pleasure hot through Will's veins. His hand curled into a fist against his hip, fighting the urge to reach out and touch Hannibal cock the way Hannibal was touching his.

Hannibal drew Will's cock in a slow circle around the tip of his own, smearing their pre-cum together. His eyes were fixated on the joining of their flesh, a smile set at the corner of his mouth. He glanced up at Will to see the desperate need rippling across Will's face, a moan barely contained behind his pursed lips.

“Watch.” He murmured, giving Will's cock a firm pull.

Will choked out a moan and shifted closer. His nails bit into the palms of his hands, holding him back from touching.

Hannibal gave Will a few more gentle strokes before steadying their cock heads against one another. His hand dragged across the connection to his own cock, going all the way down the shaft, before sliding back up to stretch the foreskin. Will's heart knocked wildly in his chest, all breath and moans catching in the back of his throat. Hannibal stretched his foreskin over his own cock head and around Will's, fully encapsulating them both in the embrace of his flesh.

“Oh-oh ...” Will choked out, his body going rigid in first shock, then pleasure.

He didn't move, didn't dare upset the erotic embrace of Hannibal's flesh around him, pressing their cock heads together in a warm, wet grip. Their cocks stood untouched between them, connected by flesh and resting as one.

“Oh my god ...” Will whimpered, eyes reaching up to find Hannibal's through the darkness.

Hannibal's gaze caught his, eyes shining with delight, mouth curved in a satisfied smirk.

“Good?” He murmured.

Will managed to nod. He glanced back down, gaping at the join of their cocks, Hannibal's flesh stretched over him, gripping around the top of Will's throbbing erection.

“You can touch now.” Hannibal whispered.

Will uncurled his fist and reached out, fingers trembling in awe and pleasure. He touched Hannibal's first, dragging his palm up the shaft, pausing for a moment where the foreskin began to stretch, before feeling the swells of their cock heads beneath the thin veneer of flesh. The flesh was soft and supple despite being stretched over Will.

Will breathed in irregular swallows, unable to find a full intake of breath with the pleasure bearing down on his chest. His cock head pulsed against Hannibal's, filling the tiny space they shared with dribbles of pre-cum. The longer they rested together, the more sensitive he became, the harder he throbbed for release. His mind pulsed white, blank except for the erotic sensation of their cocks clasped together like this.

His hips gave tiny, involuntarily jolts of need against Hannibal's as his hand stroked down his own shaft. He found the swell of his balls, and handled them softly, just enough to foster the aching pleasure growing within him. He turned his head back against the pillow in an agonized arch, moaning low into the darkness.

Hannibal's cock nudged against him, foreskin pulling taut over them with the dissonant motion. Uttering a low groan, Hannibal clamped a hand over Will's hip to hold him still.

“Put your hand on me, Will.” Hannibal rasped.

Will obeyed without hesitance, grasping Hannibal's shaft with an eager hand. He was rewarded with a caress of Hannibal's hand against his own cock. Their wrists bumped against one another as they stroked, and found a rhythm after only a few moments. They stroked back and forth, pleasuring each other while their cocks remained locked together under the grip of Hannibal's foreskin. Pre-cum bloomed wet and abundant underneath the grip of foreskin, turning the graze of their cock heads into slippery strokes of swollen skin ready to burst with orgasm.

“H-hannibal ...” Will moaned, hips clenching under the pressure of need, “Please … can I come like this?”

Hannibal's hand gripped him harder. He reached out with his other hand to touch Will's jaw and mouth, feeling the plush, open-mouthed set of Will's lower lip with his thumb.

“Yes, Will.” He groaned, “Come, darling, just like this.”

Will arched as pleasure thrilled hotter through his veins. He grasped Hannibal's cock harder, jerking him hard and fast as if he were touching himself. Hannibal's hand followed suit, bearing down on Will's aching cock until the need snapped and exploded inside him. Pleasure struck hot and hard in the center of Will's chest, rippling outward, through his belly, and into his core. The heat rushed up inside him, balls drawing tight and crushing the waiting release from him. Wet heat swelled under the hood of Hannibal's foreskin, filling the space beneath with gush after gush of Will's release. Excess moisture spilled from underneath the edge of Hannibal's foreskin, dripping down Will's cock and between Hannibal's knuckles. He didn't stop stroking Will until the orgasm faded, smearing cum all down Will's shaft and across his hand.

Will sank against the pillow as the pleasure faded from his limbs. He cracked his eyes open to see Hannibal gently release Will's cock head from his foreskin. Hannibal uttered a quiet moan at the release. Teeth clenched, he dragged a hand over his cock, pulling the foreskin back from his cock head to reveal Will's milky release swelling beneath. The copious release spilled down his cock, dribbling streaks of white and translucent liquid all the way down his shaft and balls.

Will reached out to touch him, and Hannibal's hand melted away, satisfied to let Will finish him off. Will resumed his stroking, watching Hannibal's expression shift from relaxed pleasure to intense need as the crouching pleasure rose to swallow him. Hannibal didn't need much more of Will's firm, swift stroking to find release. In a matter of moment, his hips were bucking against Will's hand, cock spilling ribbons of cum across his trembling belly and chest. Ragged whimpers of pleasure twisted from his lips as Will stroked him through the long series of orgasmic spasms.

As he lapsed against the sheets, Will released his wilting cock to gaze down at the abundant release dripping down his fingers.

“What … was that?” He whispered, mind still spinning from the experience.

Hannibal smiled, and breathed out a satisfied sigh through his nostrils, “A better, brighter experience to make up for the bad.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

A smile stretched as Will's face as he pulled the Land Rover into the front drive of the chalet to see Hannibal throwing the ball for Dotty to chase after. She dove across the yard, spraying a shower of snow behind her in her haste to get the ball.

Will parked, and stepped out of the truck with a parcel wrapped in brown wrapping paper tucked under his arm. Hannibal gazed at him curiously as he joined him on the lawn.

“What's that?” Hannibal asked, motioning to the package.

“Something I picked up while I was in town.” Will said, a smile touching his lips, “How about we go inside so you can open it?”

“It's a gift?” Hannibal asked, his head tilting in fascination.

“You could say that.” Will said.

Dotty came barreling back across the yard, holding the ball between her teeth. She panted in excitement, shoving the ball against Hannibal's leg in a demand to continue to the game.

“Come on, girl.” Will said, bending down to wrest the ball from between her teeth, “We can play fetch later. Daddy has a gift that I want Hannibal to open.”

Dotty whined, staring forlornly at the ball in Will's hand.

“Later.” Will said, “I promise.”

Hannibal chuckled as they took the porch steps up to the front door. “She can't possibly understand you.”

“But she does.” Will said, “Dogs are smarter than people give them credit for.”

“If you say so.” Hannibal said. He paused to give Will a soft kiss on the cheek before opening the door for him. “But, I must say, I get a certain amount of pleasure out of you calling yourself 'daddy'.”

Will slapped his arm despite the smile growing on his face. “Pervert.”

Hannibal held the door open for him. “After you.”

Will whistled for Dotty again and herded her inside after him. He set his bags on the table by the door, and snapped the towel from the rack to dry Dotty before she could track snow into the house. She lunged against his attempts to dry her, escaping only after he'd managed to get the snow off her paws.

“Perhaps I should have gifted you a less rambunctious breed of dog.” Hannibal remarked as Dotty darted through the house, running circles around the furniture.

“If I can handle you, I can handle her.” Will said with a coy smile.

Hannibal dipped his head. “So you keep insisting. Are you going to let me open the package or not?”

Will put the parcel in Hannibal's hands. “Go ahead.”

Hannibal carried the package to the living room, and sat down on the couch with it across his knees. Will sat down next to him, suppressing an eager smile as Hannibal pulled the strings open. Setting the twine aside, Hannibal peeled back the paper to reveal a shadowbox filled with three cobalt blue butterflies of different sizes.

Hannibal gazed in mute surprise at the gift for several moments.

“Do you like it?” Will asked.

Hannibal lifted his head, and Will could see tears gleaming at the corners of his eyes.

“Yes.” Hannibal said, “Thank you, Will.”

Will leaned over to press a warm, lingering kiss against his cheek.

“It's been two months since we came here.” Will whispered, “I think that's some sort of anniversary.”

“We've been through a lot in two months.” Hannibal said, “Perhaps I should have gotten you something.”

“No, I wasn't planning on it. But then I saw it in the window, and I knew I had to buy it for you.”

“I'm glad you thought of me. It's perfect.”

Will smiled. He looped his arm around Hannibal's shoulders, and nuzzled against his neck. They gazed down at the shadowbox in silence, sharing a moment to reflect on all the simple gift meant for them.

Will glanced down at the rose gold watch around his wrist. “How about we make dinner together?”

“Yes.” Hannibal agreed, “Right after I find the right place to hang this masterpiece.”

 

~

 

Later that evening, Will and Hannibal relaxed in bed, sharing a glass of red wine between them. The shadowbox hung on the wall in front of them, the last thing they would see before going to sleep, and the first thing when waking up.

“I can't predict you anymore.” Hannibal murmured, “I can't control you.”

“Do you still want to?”

Hannibal tilted his head as he stared at the shadowbox. “Not necessarily. I've just slowly become aware that things between us are more different than they've ever been.”

“Before now, we'd never been lovers.”

“I'm not especially fond of that label.”

“Lovers?”

“Yes.”

“Why not?”

“It's so … banal. So narrow. We do so much more than make love. Our relationship is much more than that – at least, I'd like to think so.”

“I think so too.”

Hannibal cast him a smile, and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone. “Good.”

“I told you a long time ago, I'm not one of your butterflies.” Will murmured, “Does it worry you that you've accepted that?”

“There's a certain … fear when it comes to making yourself vulnerable to someone else. I've experienced this fear with you, but this feeling I'm having now is not something I would call fear.”

“What would you call it?”

Hannibal sighed, “Something I've denied myself for a long time, and something I did not think I would ever feel again.”

Will pushed up from the headboard and tilted his head to gaze into Hannibal's eyes. He'd been met with verbal honesty so many times before, only to find guarded coldness still resting in Hannibal's eyes. He was surprised and pleased to see Hannibal's gaze was open and soft to him now.

“You screamed at me that you loved me.” Hannibal murmured, “That day you called your wife.”

“Yes. And I meant it.”

“I was honest with you the day I brought you here. I admitted my feelings to you. Yet, I've never found the strength to scream it back to you as honestly as you said it. When I told you I love you, I didn't fully understand what that meant. I didn't realize I would have to be willing to sacrifice and compromise to love you properly and fully. I feel, now, that I may have been lying when I said it before – out of ignorance, of course, not cruel intent.”

“You shouldn't say it if you don't mean it.”

“I know it hurts you that I don't.”

Will bit his lower lip, and glanced away.

“Will.” Hannibal said, catching Will's cheek in his palm. He turned Will's face to join their gazes. “Will ...” He said, on the note of a sigh this time. Pressing their foreheads together, he closed his eyes against a surge of emotion, “Will, I'm saying it now. And, from now on, I want to say it every day.”

When Hannibal's eyelids lifted, Will's blue eyes were swallowing him whole, magnetic like the pull of the strongest ocean tide.

“I love you.” He whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of emotion and conviction, “Will, I've loved you, I think from the moment I saw you … How I could have ever mistaken it for curiosity or friendship is beyond me, but now I am so consumed by it … by you. I couldn't pull myself away if I tried; I couldn't tear myself from you without ripping out a vital part of myself.”

Will's breath hitched, and his fingers grasped at Hannibal's cheek, soft but demanding.

“I love you, too.” He whispered.

Hannibal grasped Will's cheeks, bringing their mouths together in a slow join of passion and worship. Their tongues met, searching and gentle at first, and growing into hungry exchange of strokes and moans that took them down against the sheets in a clutching embrace.

They kissed until their lips were red and swollen, and their breaths were short and gasping. Hannibal drew back after long moments, resting his forehead against Will's as their breaths met hot and shallow in the air between them.

“Will,” Hannibal murmured.

He slipped his hand underneath Will's shirt, mapping out the tremble of his belly, the ridges of his ribs and the patter of his heart just beneath his breastbone. Will clutched Hannibal's hand through the fabric of his shirt, pressing Hannibal's palm into the eager flutter of his heartbeat.

“Hannibal, I want-”

Hannibal pressed his mouth to Will's, halting the request for a moment as he savored the friction and need chafing between them.

When he lifted his head, he spoke first, before Will could say the words ahead of him.

“Will, we've been here for two months. Sixty days. So many hours shared between us; hours like this …”

Will gazed up at him, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Will, I'm asking you … Will you allow me to consummate this relationship to fullest, most intimate extent?”

Will swallowed hard, already nodding even as Hannibal continued.

“Allow me to join us in the deepest union we can fuse … Take you, body and soul.”

“Yes.” Will panted, stroking at Hannibal's cheek with a shuddering hand, “Yes.”

Hannibal pressed his mouth again to Will's, stemming the flow of ardent affirmation and crushing it into sweet, eager moans. Will's hips undulated against him, pressing his burgeoning need between Hannibal's legs.

Hannibal's hand jarred into motion beneath Will's shirt, grasping the material and divesting Will of it with one swift pull. Will lifted his arms to let the shirt fly over his head, leaving his chest naked to Hannibal's roaming lips. Kissing down Will's jaw and throat, Hannibal branded Will's skin until he tasted the soft pucker of one nipple under his mouth. Here he suckled, gentle at first, and then harder as Will's sweet cries filled his chest with driving need.

Will twisted away from the pleasure, hands planted on Hannibal's shoulders.

“Please, please ...” He moaned, urging his hips up against Hannibal's weight on top of him.

Hannibal shifted downward, finding Will's belly soft and sensitive to the caress of his lips. He lingered as Will reacted in explosive writhing, pushing Hannibal's head down between in legs in demanding desire.

Hannibal hooked his fingers beneath Will's pants and boxers, bringing them down with a quick tug. Will moaned as his cock snapped free of cloth, and his legs fell open and naked to Hannibal's hungry touch. Sliding his hand down Will's inner thighs, Hannibal paused just beneath Will's swollen cock. His legs spread open wide to Hannibal's touch, his puckered hole barely visible from between his buttocks.

Hannibal's mouth had thrilled that place more than once, but as this moment held much more significance, he paused to appreciate the beauty of that untried place.

Will's eyes slipped open to gaze in a petulant demand at Hannibal. He wiggled against the sheets, shoving the toes of one foot between Hannibal's legs. His toes curled over Hannibal's still clothed erection, shooting pleasure through him.

Hannibal caught Will's foot, holding it aloft for a brief moment before turning Will swiftly onto his belly. Will's eager moaning came to a pause as he came to rest on his stomach, his backside raised and vulnerable to Hannibal's advances.

Will watched, eyes blinking wide as Hannibal rose from the bed to take the bottle of lube from the drawer in the nightstand. He opened the bottle as he returned to the bed, and held it over Will's parted ass cheeks. With a squelch, an abundant drop of lube fell to Will's skin, splashing just at the top of the cleft. Will bit back a gasp, hips shifted toward Hannibal in an eager thrust.

Hannibal prowled between Will's legs, pushing his pliant thighs farther apart, letting him sit there waiting with the lube dribbling down his cleft for long, agonizing moments. Will bit back an eager whimper, and glanced anxiously over his shoulder to follow Hannibal's movements. Hannibal let the lube drip all the way down to Will's balls before introducing his fingertips to the wet mess between Will's thighs. Will keened as Hannibal's fingertips grazed over his hole, barely a caress but enough for Will's responsive flesh to ache and clench in it's wake.

Will's head dropped to the sheets as Hannibal swirled his fingertips through the lube over Will's clenched hole. The puckered flesh flexed under the soft caress, drawing tight and flushing pretty pink. Hannibal let the muscles settle for brief moments before arching his fingertip forward into the opening.

Will gasped aloud, his hips arching from the bed as Hannibal's finger quested inside him. The flesh clenched around the finger, resisting Hannibal's stroking for brief moments before letting it slide easily within.

Hannibal smoothed his other hand over Will's lower back and the curve of his backside, monitoring Will's reactions and expressions of pleasure as he slowly worked Will open.

In the last month, they'd gone this far, Will writhing against the sheets as Hannibal worked all of his fingers inside to milk Will's prostate of all it's release. He brought Will to the point of gaping with his mouth and fingers, all but taking any lingering signs of virginity from this space. He'd rubbed the shaft of his cock along this sweet, warm cleft and thought of plunging inside – but he hadn't. Despite all they'd done in this bed, real intercourse, true consummation, was something they'd feinted along the edge of for weeks. Hannibal wanted to make sure Will was certain of his decision; no matter how much it would pain him to stop, he wouldn't go any farther if Will changed his mind.

But, Hannibal's relief began to swell within him, as, within this moment on the edge of decision – the point of no return – Will exhibited no signs of fear or regret. He exclaimed sweet pleasure and need, hips rocking back against Hannibal's hand in eager bursts, strings of incoherent need spilling past his lips with every caress that took Hannibal's fingers deeper within him.

Hannibal pressed three fingers inside him now, holding a hand over the curve of Will's spine as he stretched Will open wide. Will gasped, hips twisting under the pressure of Hannibal's hand. His hands clawed across the sheets, gathered one of the pillow to his mouth and muffling a loud moan of pleasure and shock into the cotton and stuffing. His flesh glowed pink with friction and pleasure around Hannibal's fingers, and the interior walls trembled towards the point of giving way to the pressure. He opened to Hannibal's like a knife sliding through butter, resistance melting away, warm and supple.

Hannibal stroked his fingers in and out for long moment, creating wet sounds and bringing moans to Will's lips. Will shuddered under the caress, body caving open to Hannibal's touch. Here, Hannibal paused, withdrawing his fingers gently and slowly from Will's open, aching body.

Will lifted his head from the pillow, turning hazy, dilated blue eyes to Hannibal. His lips hung slack with pleasure, a moan resting at the back of his throat.

“Please ...” He whimpered, “I need you.”

His hips rose from the sheets, displaying his pink, gaping hole, shining with lube and eager for Hannibal's cock within him.

The display pulled a low curse from Hannibal's throat. He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, stemming the flow of pleasure that surged like a volt of electricity through his groin. He grabbed the lube with a trembling hand and poured some out into his palm. He smoothed it over his cock with a few shift strokes, tamping down the sizzle of pleasure through his veins at the touch of his own hand. His cock gleamed pink and purple with full, aching veins, throbbing for release that lay just ahead in the sweet, hot clench of Will's body.

Grasping Will's hips in loving embrace, he bent forward to guide the tip of his cock to Will's flushed, waiting hole. Will's gaze met Hannibal's over his shoulder, clinging on as the tip of Hannibal's cock grazed against the opening.

Will's hips shifted up to meet the creeping thrust of Hannibal's hips. The muscles ripples around Hannibal's cock head, and his flesh absorbed the tremor, melding into one of his own. Will's hole took taking the tip of Hannibal's cock with ease, flesh slipping against flesh on the glaze of lube.

Hannibal bit back a moan as his cock slid deeper, meeting with clench of Will's tender body. With a few rocks of his hips, the little resistance that lingered melted away. Will's body closed around him, pulling him inside, taking him all the way to the hilt. Will gave a wavering moan as Hannibal's hips came to rest against his backside, the pressure and weight of his cock resting inside Will's soft, aching body.

“Oh god ...” Hannibal ground out, resting his head against Will's shoulder.

The breath departed his lungs as Will's hole clutched around him, squeezing his entire length in a wet, velvety embrace. Stars exploded in a bright array behind his eyelids, sensations all but laying logical thought and his careful control to waste. Will's body held him completely, and so it held his will and control like a beast on a leash.

Will arched back against him, grinding his backside into Hannibal's hips and shifting Hannibal's cock within him. Hannibal drew in a shuddering breath, and struggled to resume his movement, so moved by the union of their bodies that he felt paralyzed by the consuming pleasure.

“Hannibal …”

Only Will's eager whimper and the soft undulation of his body jarred Hannibal's hips into motion against him. Hannibal supported himself with one hand against the mattress, and stroked Will's hip and flank with the other as he rocked softly against the hot clutch of Will's body.

“Oh, Will ...” Hannibal moaned.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the inundation of pleasure. Orgasm threatened at the edges of his mind, too early but entirely fostered to apex by the sweet grip of Will's taut little body.

“Oh god, yes ...” Will responded.

His hips rolled back against Hannibal's, taking the downward drive of Hannibal's thrust with high-pitched cry. Hannibal gripped Will's hip tighter, pulling Will into an arch against his cock and pinning him there against the sheets. Will moaned as Hannibal's cock entered him deeper, tunneling all the way in and nudging against his awakening prostate.

“Oh, fuck.” Will cried, hands batting against the sheets.

Hannibal rose to his knees, and dragged Will up with him, pushing Will's face into the mattress to achieve the steepest angle he could find. He rocked against Will harder, smacking flesh against flesh, and hitting Will's prostate with each thrust.

“Hannibal!” Will cried, hips wiggling in overwhelming pleasure, “Hannibal, please, oh my god!  
Hannibal pinned Will head to the sheets with fingers laced through his curls, and gripped his hips upright with the other hand. Will knelt helpless and writhing in pleasure as Hannibal's cock pumped in and out of his gaping, aching hole. His moans rushed faster and incoherent to his lips, interrupted with every thrust by a gasp of shock and pleasure. His hands batted at the sheets, at last catching on to the headboard, as Hannibal's ardent thrusting all but toppled him forward.

Hannibal pulled a stop as the pleasure began to trip over the line. He withdrew, sucking in a breath, and tamping the pleasure down, eager to make this moment last as long as he could. Will gave a soft moan, weak knees slipping out from under him and collapsing to the sheets.

Hannibal turned him onto his back, and crawled between his legs. Stroking Will's cheek, pressed a dozen soft kisses to Will's mouth and face while he nudged his cock back into Will's body. Will moaned, clinging to Hannibal's shoulders as Hannibal's cocked filled him again.

“Oh, yes.” Will sighed, tilting his head back into the pillow.

Hannibal watched his pleasured expression through hazy eyes as he thrust in a shallow grind against Will. He stroked a hand down Will's cheek and throat and over the pale arch of his chest and stomach, moaning at the sight of Will's cock resting thick and dusky against the alabaster canvas of his belly. Little drops of pre-cum squeezed from the tip, milky white against the dusky color of his aroused cock.

Hannibal wrapped his fingers around Will's cock as his thrusts reached a faster pace, stroking the hardened flesh with the rhythm of his hips. Will moaned, arching against the pressure of Hannibal's cock. His legs wrapped around Hannibal's waist, ankles locking and dragging Hannibal hard against him. Hannibal fell forward over Will's body, letting Will set the pace with the clench of his legs. He focused on the the flexing, weeping flesh clutched in his hand, stroking it with fascination and pleasure.

Will cradled Hannibal's face with one hand, joining their eyes above the sweaty caress of flesh. The blue of his eyes flared with pleasure and adoration, taking Hannibal whole and speaking love in a language that words couldn't match.

Hannibal clutched Will's hand to his face and pressed a kiss the palm, pressing with it all of his desire, all of his devotion and love. He closed his eyes against the tide of pleasure rising inside him; he didn't want this night to end. It was too perfect; too perfect for the future to have a chance at being any better than this moment.   
“Hannibal.” Will whispered.

Hannibal opened his eyes, unable to ignore the pull of Will's voice even for the sake of preserving the moment in his memory.

Will moaned, all rosy-cheeked and glossy-eyed, more beautiful than he had ever been to Hannibal's eyes. He pulled Hannibal down against him, pressing kisses into Hannibal's mouth and cheeks, tasting the salt of tears.

Will drew back, dragging the backs of his fingers through the narrow tracks of moisture making their way down Hannibal's cheek. A question shone in his eyes.

“I love you.” Hannibal murmured in response.

Will smiled, and pressed another kiss to Hannibal mouth, this one ardent and long. It dragged Hannibal's clinging fingers from each tiny moment, taking him higher to enjoy to the whole, to feel their bodies fuse and join, moving and feeling as one.

Hannibal did not feel the pleasure of his orgasm as himself, but as half of a whole, his pleasure surging and meeting with Will's, their moans and tingles of pleasure echoing through the room as one. Hannibal relaxed against Will's chest, lost in time, noting the passage of long moments only by Will's steady breathing and reassuring drum of his heartbeat against Hannibal's ear.

 

~

 

Will squinted against the blindfold over his eyes as the Land Rover bounced over bumps in the narrow road, tires crunching through snow and gravel.

“Tell me again why I have to be blindfolded.” He said, grabbing onto the door handle as they took a sharp turn.

“It's a surprise.” Hannibal said, “I don't want you to see where we are going until we arrive.”

“I'm starting to think you're just trying to one-up me with the gifts.”

“While I am not to be out-done, the melodrama of the blindfold is more for your benefit than mine.”

“There's only so many places we could be going. We're out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Don't try to figure it out.”

“Afraid I will?”

“I want you to be completely surprised. Relax, and enjoy the ride.”

Will huffed, but settled back against the seat.

The drive lasted another five minutes before Will felt the truck slow, turn, and glide to a complete stop.

“Can I take the blindfold off?” He asked.

“You may.”

Will tugged the cloth away from his eyes. Blinking against blinding sunlight, his eyes slowly adjusted to find they were sitting in a parking lot in front of massive wooden structure. A sign over the front entrance read HIDDEN TRAILS SKI LODGE.

Will glanced over at Hannibal, a smile growing on his face. “What are we doing here?”

“You said you wanted a real teacher to instruct you.” Hannibal said, motioning to the lodge, “I've done thorough investigation of this institution. It's one of the best in the region.”

“I thought you wanted to teach me.”

“Of course. I want to have you all to myself, but I am not an expert in skiing. And as you so eloquently reminded me, the hills surrounding our house are not conducive to amateur skiers' learning.”

Will leaned across the seat to wrap his arms around Hannibal's neck. He pressed a kiss against Hannibal's cheek, and murmured, “Thank you.”

Hannibal returned the kiss against his forehead, and patted his back.

“Let's go. We have an appointment.”

They stepped out of the truck, and Hannibal opened the backseat door to pull a duffel bag from underneath the seat.

“What's that?” Will asked.

“Our gear.” Hannibal said, “If it's within reason and ability, I prefer to use my own gear and not rent equipment I've never used or that has been used by other people.”

“Of course. Sometimes I forget how pretentious you can be.”

They joined hands at the front of the truck, and walked to the front door of the lodge. At the front desk, they signed in for the appointment and filled out waivers. Will frowned as he signed the name of the fake identity Hannibal had acquired for him; it was the first time he'd been required to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation.

The receptionist gave them directions to the beginner's hill, and told them the instructor would meet them there. As they walked across the top of the hill behind the lodge, passing groups of skiers, children on inner tubes, and groups of beginners listening intently to their instructors, Will was struck by a sense of the surreal. He reached out to grip Hannibal's hand, steadying only when Hannibal's fingers closed around his in return.

“Are you all right?” Hannibal murmured, leaning closer to Will's shoulder.

“Yeah.” Will said, “I just got this strange feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?”

“This feels like a dream.” Will said, “This. Us. Everything.”

“Of course it does. We've spent two months alone together, completely isolated from other human contact. There's bound to be some shock now that we're interacting with other people again.”

“When I signed that fake name, it hit me like a train.” Will said, “Accountability. I'd almost forgotten how everything we do can affect the future, even other people that we're never going to see again.”

“Does that concern you?”

“I feel it, but I'm also numb to it. I know I'm never going back to my old life.”

“But your old life still feels more real than what you are experiencing right now. The sea changes that have occurred within you and between us in such a short amount of time is creating a disconnect between your current emotions and the reality you envisioned when you threw us off the bluff.”

“I can't believe I fell for you.” Will said, a rough chuckle riding up his throat. “If that's what you mean.”

“You were falling for a long time. The difference now is that you are no longer lying to yourself about your feelings.”

“What about you?” Will asked, “Were you lying to yourself before?”

“We all tell ourselves different versions of reality to suit our fears and expectations. Perception is reality.”

“Fears?”

“There was a time, Will, when I thought what's happening between us now would never happen.” Hannibal said, a sad smile touching his lips, “I seem to remember you telling me that the light from friendship wouldn't reach us in a million years.”

Will ducked his head. “Right.”

“Perhaps I lied to protect myself, but deep down, I always knew that these feelings weren't only ones of friendship.”

The crunch of snow under their boots came to a pause as they reached the hill the receptionist pointed them to. A man in ski gear with an instructor's patch on his coat stood at the top of the hill, alone.

“Wait, I'm not in a group?” Will asked.

“People learn best one-on-one.” Hannibal said, “This hill is yours alone for the next two hours.”

“What are you going to do while I'm falling on my ass down this hill?” Will asked.

“The lane right next to this one is a harder level.” Hannibal said, “I'll be right over there. After two hours, if you feel more comfortable, we can try another hill together.”

Will glanced dubiously at the instructor and the beginner's hill before. He had vivid imaginations of falling or crashing into the trees; he wondered how many times one could fall in the space of two hours.

“Don't worry, you'll do fine.” Hannibal said, resting a reassuring hand on Will's lower back. He pressed a kiss to Will's cheek, “Good luck.”

 

~

 

Hannibal left Will with the instructor and hiked another ten yards to the next course. Only a few other skiers braved the steep hill, giving him more than enough space to enjoy the slope. He put on his skis, and gave himself a push off the poles to take him down the hill. Crisp winter air filled his lungs as he surged down the slope, all but flying around the twists and turns.

After skiing the course twice and riding the lift back to the top of the hill, Hannibal wandered back to the beginner's hill to see Will's progress. An hour had passed since the class began.

Will and the instructor were skiing the hill together, but Will appeared to be standing on his own. Hannibal smiled, proud.

The lift brought Will and the instructor back to the top of the hill after several minutes. Will hopped down to greet Hannibal, shuffling through the snow on his skis.

“It looks like you are making excellent progress.” Hannibal said.

“I have a good teacher.” Will said, casting the instructor a smile.

“How about we take a short break?” The instructor said, “You should go get some water. Make sure you stay hydrated.”

“Okay. Meet back here in fifteen minutes?” Will suggested.

“Sounds good.” The instructor said.

Will unlocked his skis from his boots, and took Hannibal's hand. They walked back to the lodge where a vending machine offered soda and bottles of water. Hannibal purchased a bottle of water, and cracked the lid open. He offered it to Will.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Hannibal asked.

Will took a long drink of the water before answering. Wiping his mouth with his glove, he nodded. “I'm starting to see the appeal now that I can make it down the hill without falling.”

“I knew you would. You're a faster learner.” Hannibal said, “We have another four months here to enjoy all the skiing we desire, unless we decide to stay longer.”

Will scanned the skiing courses, and the jagged mountain peaks beyond. The ski was clear overhead, not a single tuft of cloud to disrupt the serene blue.

“It's beautiful here, but I don't think I want to stay forever.” Will said.

“Of course, we wouldn't stay forever, but I can always extend the rent at the chalet.”

“We've had good and bad experiences here in only two months.” Will said, “Why limit ourselves to one place?”

“You want to travel the world with me?” Hannibal asked, observing Will enchanted profile with a pleased smile.

“There's so much out there.” Will said, “So much beyond the tiny scope of our lives. I want to touch it all, at least once. I want to remember this feeling, how I feel right now.”

“What feeling is that?”

“There's something … freeing about realizing how minuscule your life really is. It's everything to you, and nothing to everybody else.”

“I'm constantly aware of my own mortality. That's why I am compelled to take, and learn, and experience everything as it comes without the moral restrictions most people depend on to understand themselves as human.”

“It really doesn't matter.” Will murmured, “None of it.”

He turned to meet Hannibal's gaze, his eyes matching the clear blue ski in brightness and intensity that could swallow Hannibal's entire being in one glance.

“I want to be free with you.” Will whispered, reaching down to clutch Hannibal's hand in his own, “Out there, wherever this life takes us.”

Hannibal pulled Will to him, pressing a kiss to his lips, and then against his cheek as love and affirmation rushed to his throat.

“Yes.” He murmured against Will's cheek, “We have everywhere to go. I intend to show you every part of it.”

The cold wind stinging at Hannibal's cheeks couldn't ease the pulsing warmth against his eyelids. The strange warmth curling in his chest was a sensation he had searched for most of his adult life, a memory of childhood that had lost all it's immediacy and freshness in the locked doors of his memory palace. Happiness, so elusive and fickle, had flown between his rib cage and taken up residence against the melting coldness of his lonely heart. He'd be damned if he ever let it go again.

 

 ~the end~

 

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [Tumblr](https://relentless-fire.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> I'm adding some reference pics that I used for the chalet, in case you are curious :)  
> [The chalet](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/319896379762541903/)  
> [The living room](http://www.pinterest.com/pin/319896379762542245/)  
> [The pool room](http://www.pinterest.com/pin/319896379762542130/)  
> [The reading nook](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/319896379762542073/)  
> [Will's bedroom](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/319896379762541951/)  
> [The watch](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/319896379762541970/)  
> [The necklace](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/319896379763165426/)


End file.
